NI 

• 


UC-NRLF 


LIBRARY 

OF    THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


THK    WAX-WING. 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS 


BY 


ELIZABETH   GRINNELL 


JOSEPH    GRINNELL 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


BOSTON,   U.S.A. 

D.   C.   HEATH  &   CO.,   PUBLISHERS 
1898 


GOPYRHIIIT,    189S, 

BY   I).   C.    HEATH  &  CO. 


TYPOGRAPHY   BY  J.    S.   GUSHING  A   CO.,   NORWOOD,    MASS. 


PRESSWORK    BY    ROCKWELL  A    CHURCHILL,    BOSTON. 


INTRODUCTION. 

THIS  volume  really  needs  little  by  way  of  introduc- 
tion. No  one  can  mistake  the  evident  love  for  our 
feathered  friends,  the  kindly  assistance  that  has  been 
given  them,  and  the  success  of  the  authors  in  imparting 
to  others  much  of  that  pleasure  which  they  have  un- 
doubtedly derived  from  their  studies. 

The  same  recreation  lies  within  the  power  of  all  who 
through  inattention  and  thoughtlessness  neglect  the 
almost  priceless  relief  from  daily  burdens  afforded  by 
such  pursuits.  Every  one  can  learn  something  of  the 
ways  and  doings  of  our  little  friends,  even  though  he 
may  never  write  a  book  or  put  a  pen  to  paper  concern- 
ing them. 

Knowledge  thus  acquired  is  not  wasted ;  it  elevates 
the  mind  and. trains  the  senses,  so  that  in  after  life  the 
habits  of  observing  and  noting  frequently  become  of 
great  use,  and  are  never  a  detriment. 

Our  authors  have  set  forth  the  wanton  destruction  of 
bird  life  consequent  upon  the  use  of  feathers  and  parts 
of  birds  to  ornament  hats.  They  have  in  no  way  mis- 
stated; for  tens  of  thousands  of  birds  are  annually 

iii 

107589 


IV  INTRODUCTION 

offered  on  the  altar  of  fashion  to  gratify  a  cruel  and 
barbarous  survival  of  savage  adornment.  Yet  the  male 
friend  of  the  lady  who  wears  upon  her  head  a  gorgeous 
array  of  mutilated,  misshapen,  and  dyed  birdskins  may 
have  done  something  to  assist  in  a  similar  destruction 
of  bird  life.  As  a  boy  perhaps  he  wantonly  deprived 
some  bird  of  her  eggs ;  and  later,  when  possessed  of  a 
gun,  he  may  have  shown  little  discretion  or  thought 
when  depriving  the  nestling  of  a  mother  or  father  who 
alone  could  feed  and  protect  it.  And  as  a  man,  too 
often  it  may  be,  he  has  allowed  savage  instincts  to  domi- 
nate his  acts  instead  of  the  knowledge  derived  from 
experience  and  thought. 

It  lies  within  the  power  of  many  who  will  read  these 
pages  to  assist  in  the  distribution  of  evidence  and  in 
the  enlightenment  of  others,  to  the  end  that  the  useless 
slaughter  of  birds  and  the  destruction  of  their  eggs 
may  be  prevented,  or  at  least  greatly  mitigated. 

Within  a  few  years  past  efforts  have  been  made  to 
have  one  day  a  year  in  the  schools  set  aside  to  study  and 
consider  the  ways  and  interests  of  our  feathered  friends. 
The  matter  is  of  national  importance,  and  deserves  the 
interest  that  has  been  taken  in  it;  but  without  the 
hearty  cooperation  of  teachers  and  their  efforts  to  in- 
terest and  instruct  their  charges,  there  is  little  likeli- 
hood of  accomplishing  the  end  desired. 

Each  farmer  or  occupier  of  a  tract  of  land  has  it 


INTRODUCTION  v 

within  his  power  to  set  aside  some  portion  of  otherwise 
non-usable  land  to  afford  shelter  and  concealment  for 
many  birds,  and  to  protect  those  useful  species  that 
select  and  require  special  locations  in  which  to  rear 
their  young.  The  presence  of  birds  in  a  locality  lends 
a  charm  to  the  landscape  which  nothing  else  can  lend. 
An  abundance  of  useful  and  attractive  species  may  be 
encouraged  to  remain  and  breed  if  heed  is  paid  to  their 
requirements,  and  efforts  to  disturb  them  in  their  or- 
derly pursuits  be  prevented.  With  slight  care  such 
species  as  are  not  a  detriment  or  nuisance  can  be  as- 
sisted, and  thus  the  value  of  birds  as  a  feature  of  the 
landscape,  as  insect  destroyers,  and  as  vocalists  can  be 
more  and  more  demonstrated  and  appreciated. 

There  is  a  book,  large  and  bulky,  yet  within  the 
reach  of  every  one  ;  little  work  is  required  to  handle 
it,  for  its  pages  are  always  open,  and  it  is  written  in 
the  universal  language.  It  costs  nothing  to  read  many 
chapters,  yet,  as  in  all  good  things,  a  little  patience 
and  some  experience  will  assist  greatly  in  acquiring  a 
fair  understanding  of  its  contents.  In  this  great  Book 
of  Nature  will  be  found  much  concerning  that  rich  and 
varied  division  of  animal  life  to  which  has  been  given 
the  name  of  Birds,  and  its  relation  to  the  welfare  and 
enjoyment  of  humanity. 

Certain  helps  have  been  invented  by  the  experiences 
and  intelligence  of  man  to  assist  those  who  through  in- 


VI  INTRODUCTION 

attention,  unfavorable  environment,  or  otherwise,  have 
been  unable  to  acquire  that  knowledge  of  this  book 
essential  to  a  correct  understanding  of  their  relation 
to  animated  nature. 

Such  a  help  is  this  little  volume,  which  it  is  hoped 
may  prove  useful  and  instructive  to  many  whose  knowl- 
edge of  bird  life  is  small,  and  also  be  well  worth  a  read- 
ing by  those  whose  more  extended  opportunities  have 
permitted  a  wider  knowledge  of  ornithology. 


WILLIAM  PALMER. 


NATIONAL  MUSEUM, 
WASHINGTON,  D.C. 


SEEK  the  children,  little  book  : 

Bid  them  love  the  bird's  retreat, 
By  the  brook  and  woodland  nook, 

In  the  garden,  in  the  street, 
In  the  tree  above  the  shed, 

Underneath  the  old  barn  eaves, 
In  their  bed  high  overhead, 

Where  their  crazy-quilts  are  leaves. 

Bid  them  find  their  secrets  out, 

How  to  understand  their  words, 
Play  the  scout  in  woods  about, 

Listen  slyly  for  the  birds. 
Hark !  I  hear  a  child-bird  say, 

Piping  softly  in  the  dell, 
"  You  may  stay  and  see  us  play, 

If  you  only  love  us  well." 


Pasadena,  Col. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PA(iE 

INTRODUCTION .        .      iii 

I.     THE  MESSAGE  OF  A  MOCKING-BIRD       ...        .        1 
II.     SOME  PEOPLE  WE  LIKE  TO  KNOW  ....        5 

III.  CIVILIZED  BIRDS       .         ....         .         .         9 

IV.  How  BIRDS  DRESS  ...         .        .        .        .       13 

V.     How  MADAM  BIRD  COMBS  HER  HAIR   .        .        ..18 

VI.  WHAT  BIRDS  CARRY  IN  THEIR  POCKETS       .        .      22 

VII.  CHILD  BIRDS     .         .        .        .        .        .        .         .      28 

VIII.  How  BABY  BIRDS  ARE  FED   .         .         .        ,         .33 

IX.  AT  MEAL-TIME 39 

X.  SEED-EATERS  AND  MEAT-EATERS    .         .         .        .45 

XL  SOME  BIRDS  WITH  A  BAD  NAME    ....       50 

XII.  BEFORE  BREAKFAST          ....         i        .       57 

XIII.  OUR     BIRDS'     RESTAURANT  —  MEALS     AT    ALL 

HOXTRS 62 

XIV.  UMBRELLAS  AND  OTHER  THINGS    ....       68 
XV.     CRADLE  MAKING       .         .         .         .         .        .         .       73 

XVI.     OUR  SCREECH  OWL 78 

XVII.     BIRDS  AT  WORK  AND  PLAY    .  ...       83 

XVIII.     SOME  OTHER  BIRDS  AT  AVoitK      •.'       .         .         .89 

XIX.     A  PET  HUMMING-BIRD     ....  .97 

ix 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTBE  PAGE 

XX.  HOW    WE    TOOK    THE     HUMMING-BIRDS'    PICTURES  100 

XXI.     OUR  ROBIN  REDBREAST 107 

XXII.  MORE  ABOUT  OUR  ROBIN      .        .   •     .        .        .  Ill 

XXIII.  GOING  TO  BED  AND  GETTING  UP  .        .        .        .116 

XXIV.  MRS.  TOWHEE  PROPOSES  A  GARDEN  PARTY        .  123 
XXV.  AT  THE  GARDEN  PARTY       .     '  .        .        .        .  129 

XXVI.  OUR  BIRD  HOSPITAL      .        .        .        ,        ...-    .  137 

XXVII.  A  SPLENDID  COLLECTION       .   .  141 


ILLUSTRATIONS   IN   THE   TEXT. 

PAGE 

MOCKING-BIRD          .        .   ,.     »        .        .        .        .                 .  2 

THE  YOUNG  MOCKING-BIRD  THAT  LOST  ITS  TAIL  IN  THE 

DOOR.       ...'..'       .        .        ....        .     .  .  4 

CROW  BLACKBIRD    .        .        .        ,        »        .        .        .        .11 

TURKEY  BUZZARD   .-       .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .  15 

MOUNTAIN  QUAIL    .       V       .        .        .        .        .        .        .  20 

RUBY-CROWNED  KINGLET        .        '.       >.        .        .        .        .  23 

SHORT-EARED  OWL 24 

NEST  FULL  OF  YOUNG  BIRDS 27 

LINNET      .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        ...        .30 

HUMMING-BIRD  FEEDING  HER  YOUNG    .....  35 

BLUE  JAY .  38 

DOWNY  WOODPECKER 42 

CHIMNEY  SwitfT 46 

ARKANSAS  GOLDFINCH 47 

KING-BIRD        ..........  51 

LOGGERHEAD  SHRIKE      ........  53 

ENGLISH  SPARROW .55 

BROWN  TOWHEE 58 

SONG  SPARROW        .........  64 


xii  ILLUSTRATIONS   IN    THE   TEXT. 

PAGE 

BALTIMORE  ORIOLE         .        .                                  ...  75 

GROUND  OWL 77 

SCREECH  OWL  .        .   • 79 

BARN  SWALLOW 87 

MARSH  OWL .  ,88 

COSTA'S  HUMMING-BIKD  .  .89 

CAT-BIRD '.        .        .        .        v    ...  94 

BROWN  THRUSH       .         .         .  95 

ANNA'S  HUMMING-BIRDS  105 

ROBIN        .        .        .        .      \        ,        .  108 

WESTERN  BLUEBIRD        .        .        .  117 

WHIP-POOR-WILL       .  121 

PHCEBE      .        .    V.        .        .  ;     .        .        .        .   f             ,  124 

FLICKER    ...        .        .        .        •  127 

CALIFORNIA  BUSH-TIT  AND  NEST  1132 

MEADOW  LARK        .        .        .        *        .        .  135 

WAX-WING        .        .        .        .        .        .        •  139 

SNOWY  HKRON ._.'..  143 


OUR   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

CHAPTER   I. 

THE   MESSAGE    OF    A    MOCKING-BIKD. 

IT  was  in  the.  year  1877,  before  any  of  the  children 
who  read  this  book  were  born.  We  were  living  on 
one  of  the  great  reservations  in  the  Indian  Territory. 
Some  one  knocked  at  the  door.  When  the  door  was 
opened,  there  stood  a  little  Indian  girl,  her  head  all 
covered  up  in  a  bright  shawl.  She  was  shy,  as  Indian 
girls  were  before  they  had  seen  many  white  people. 
Very  timidly  she  drew  her  hand  from  under  her  shawl 
and  gave  to  us  a  baby  mocking-bird.  Then  she  turned 
and  ran  down  the  prairie  toward  her  buffalo-skin  lodge 
not  far  away. 

We  understood.  The  little  girl's  name  was  Kitty- 
ka-tat.  She  had  been  to  our  house  often.  She  knew 
that  we  liked  pets  of  all  kinds,  and  birds  most  of  all,  so 
she  had  captured  this  one  for  us  by  a  kind  of  snare  or 
trap.  Of  course  we  kept  it,  for  we  did  not  know  where 
its  nest  was.  We  allowed  it  to  use  the  whole  house 
for  a  cage.  It  ate  wherever  we  ate,  and  slept  at  night 
on  the  curtain  pole  above  the  window. 

B  1 


2  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

But  the  perch  it  liked  best  by  day  was  the  top  of  its 
master's  head.  As  soon  as  this  gentleman  came  in  and 
sat  down  in  the  rocking-chair  and  put  on  his  skullcap, 
the  bird  would  fly  to  his  shoulder.  Sometimes  it  would 
take  a  nip  at  his  ear  or  his  hair.  Then  it  would  give 
a  hop  and  a  flutter,  and  land  in  the  middle  of  the  black 


MOCKING-BlRD. 

skullcap,  where  it  would  sit  for  an  hour  if  no  one  dis- 
turbed it.  It  liked  to  take  crumbs  from  our  hands,  or 
bits  of  apple  from  our  lips,  standing  on  our  shoulders. 
It  bathed  every  day  in  a  large  pan  of  water  placed  in 
the  middle  of  the  carpet.  Then,  too  wet  to  fly  farther, 
it  would  flutter  all  dripping  to  a  low  stool,  where  it 
would  dry  its  clothes  after  the  wash.  If  a  door 
chanced  to  be  left  open,  the  bird  would  fly  to  the  top 


THE  MESSAGE  OF  A   MOCKING-BIRD.  3 

of  it  and  preen  its  feathers  and  look  about  at  us  below 
in  a  very  pretty  way.  So  you  see  the  little  thing  really 
washed  and  dried  and  ironed  its  clothes. 

One  day  when  it  was  perched  on  the  top  of  the  hall 
door,  as  happy  as  could  be,  a  gust  of  wind  quickly  blew 
the  door  shut,  with  a  loud  noise.  The  bird  gave  a  sharp 
scream  and  flew  to  the  window.  We  looked  and  saw  a 
strange  sight,  — a  mocking-bird  without  a  tail. 

The  little  bundle  of  feathers  had  been  shut  in  at  the 
top  of  the  door  when  the  wind  closed  it ;  and  there  sat 
poor  birdie,  a  mere  chunk  of  a  da,rling,  turning  its  head 
from  side  to  side  and  looking  sadly  back  at  the  place 
where  its  tail  had  once  been. 

We  opened  the  door,  and  down  fluttered  every  one  of 
the  beautiful  feathers.  Birdie  eyed  them  with  a  puz- 
zled look,  canting  its  head,  as  though  it  were  saying, 
"I  don't  understand  it  at  all."  Then  it  looked  back- 
ward again  in  a  very  pitiful  way.  We  couldn't  help 
laughing,  though  we  were  so  sorry  for  the  bird.  In  a 
short  time  the  feathers  grew  again,  and  the  little  fellow 
showed  great  care  in  preening  them  and  placing  them 
just  as  it  thought  they  ought  to  grow. 

After  a  while  there  came  to  be  a  little  baby  in  the 
house,  and  the  mocking-bird  seemed  to  understand. 
Two  grown-up  people  had  been  its  only  friends  before, 
but  it  was  never  afraid  of  the  stranger  baby  from  the 
first  time  it  saw  him.  It  would  fly  from  any  perch  to 
where  the  baby  lay,  and  peep  into  the  baby's  face  in 
the  sweetest  way,  as  if  saying,  "  Glad  to  see  you,  little 


OUR   FEATHERED    FRIENDS. 


THE  YOUNG  MOCKING-BIRD  THAT  LOST  ITS  TAIL  IN  THE  DOOR. 

man."  Then  it  would  twitter  a  low  song,  which 
sounded  very  much  as  if  it  were  singing,  "  Little  one, 
when  you  grow  up,  be  kind  to  the  birds  and  love 
them." 

"  Be  kind  to  the  birds  and  love  them  "  was  the  little 
mocking-bird's  message,  or  so  it  seemed  to  us. 


SOME  PEOPLE  WE  LIKE  TO  KNOW.  5 

The  baby  and  his  mother  never  forgot  the  message  of 
the  mocking-bird.  They  have  loved  birds  ever  since. 
That  is  why  they  are  writing  this  book  about  birds  for 
the  children. 


CHAPTER   II. 

SOME   PEOPLE   WE   LIKE   TO   KNOW. 

WE  are  always  interested  in  our  nearest  neighbors. 
"Who  lives  in  the  next  house?"  we  ask.  "Are  they 
pleasant  persons  to  know  ?  "  and  "  How  many  children 
are  there?" 

These  are  questions  one  commonly  asks.  But  we 
are  not  speaking  just  now  of  men  and  women  and  chil- 
dren who  live  near  us  on  our  street.  We  are  speaking 
of  people  all  about  us  in  our  yard,  and  in  your  yard 
perhaps,  — little,  winged,  beautiful  people,  who  make  it 
so  pleasant  with  song  and  chirp  and  flutter,  — the  birds. 

We  like  to  think  of  the  birds  as  creatures  better  and 
more  lovable  than  lizards  and  worms  and  other  crawling 
things.  We  know  a  lady  who  calls  them  "Angels," 
because  they  have  wings  and  seem  to  fly  far  off  into 
heaven.  No  one  ever  jumps  away  from  a  bird,  as  some 
foolish  people  do  from  a  snake  or  a  mouse.  Most 
snakes  and  mice  are  as  harmless  as  birds,  but  they  do 
not  win  their  way  to  our  hearts  as  the  birds  do. 

The  yard  or  field  that  has  the  most  trees  and  shrubs 
in  it  will  also  have  the  most  and  the  merriest  birds. 


6  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

Very  few  birds  choose  to  live  on  a  desert.  They  like 
shade  and  grass  and  flowers  as  well  as  we  do,  and  fruit 
trees  and  berry  bushes,  and  the  sound  of  life  and  fun. 

When  we  see  a  big  tree  chopped  down,  we  think  of 
the  birds  who  will  miss  it.  Watch  them  yourselves. 
See  how  they  light  on  the  fallen  boughs,  and  peep  sadly 
under  the  wilting  leaves,  and  twitter  about  their  loss. 
Birds  are  like  ourselves;  they  like  to  live  in  the  places 
that  are  familiar  to  them,  because  here  they  feel  at 
home  and  safe.  We  sometimes  think  we  can  hear 
them  singing,  "  My  country,  'tis  of  thee,  —  of  thee  I 
sing." 

Their  "  country  "  is  our  yard,  and  your  yard,  or  the 
woods  or  the  city  streets  and  house  roofs,  and  they  love 
it.  We  should  respect  their  rights  and  let  them  have 
their  little  "America"  in  peace.  We  can  apply  the 
Golden  Rule  as  well  to  our  treatment  of  the  birds  as  to 
one  another. 

There  are  enemies  which  are  very  troublesome  to  the 
birds.  Two  or  three  hawks,  some  owls,  and  a  few 
boys,  delight  in  scaring  or  killing  them.  We  have 
never  seen  a  little  girl  harm  a  bird,  and  we  know  many 
boys,  as  well,  who  would  not  hurt  a  bird  "on  purpose." 
Their  worst  enemies  are  the  cats. 

These  enemies  do  not  come  sailing  over  into  the 
birds'  country  in  ships,  or  marching  up  the  coast  in 
troops,  carrying  guns  and  beating  drums  and  making 
a  great  noise.  They  are  cowardly,  sneaking  enemies. 
They  jump  one  at  a  time  over  hedges  and  fences,  and 


SOME  PEOPLE   WE  LIKE   TO  KNOW.  7 

they  crawl  under  bushes  barefoot,  and  dart  across  the 
street  when  no  one  is  looking.  They  are  so  still,  glid- 
ing on  their  soft  feet,  that  no  one  of  the  bird  family 
can  hear  them  coming.  So  whole  nestfuls  of  baby  birds 
are  gone  before  their  mothers  know  it. 

Cats  have  learned  that  they  are  not  welcome  in  our 
yard.  If  one  of  them  slips  in  before  we  are  up  in  the 
morning,  the  birds  tell  us  by  a  sort  of  "shriek,"  and 
we  hurry  to  help  them.  We  have  seen  six  or  seven 
different  kinds  of  birds  crying  at  a  cat  and  flying  at 
him  at  one  time.  They  even  nip  at  his  back,  and  dart 
up  so  quickly  that  the  cat  has  no  chance  to  spring  at 
them. 

The  orioles  and  mocking-birds  are  our  best  watch- 
dogs, screaming  with  very  angry  voices  at  sight  of  a 
cat,  and  warning  all  the  other  birds  in  the  yard  to 
"look  out."  In  the  orchard  there  were  some  stray  cats 
that  nobody  owned,  and  we  thought  it  right  to  shoot 
the  hungry,  thieving  things.  One  mocking-bird,  who 
had  been  robbed  once  by  these  cats,  would  point  out  a 
cat  to  us,  flying  on  ahead,  and  would  not  jump  away  at 
the  sharp  bang  of  the  gun.  She  seemed  to  understand 
perfectly  well  that  we  were  protecting  her  and  aiming 
at  the  enemy  she  feared  so  much. 

We  have  read  how  wild  beasts  from  the  jungle  prowl 
around  the  homes  of  India  to  snatch  the  children  and 
carry  them  off.  How  careful  the  mothers  must  be, 
always  watching  for  the  cruel  animals  and  dreading 
their  quick  spring ! 


8  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

The  mother  birds  in  our  yard  are  like  those  human 
mothers  in  India.  You  have  only  to  watch  them  when 
a  cat  comes  prowling  around  to  see  how  very  much  like 
human  mothers  they  are.  They  scream  and  dart  about 
in  fright,  and  if  you  go  near  they  will  fly  not  from  you, 
but  toward  the  cat.  They  are  asking  you  for  help. 

Birds  near  your  house  soon  learn  to  know  the  family 
if  every  one  is  kind  to  them,  when  they  have  once 
learned  that  you  are  their  friend.  They  will  allow  you 
to  call  while  they  are  eating  their  meals,  or  to  watch 
them  while  nest-building,  although  they  may  be  almost 
within  reach  of  your  hand.  They  will  even  wait  around 
the  door  for  you  to  shake  the  tablecloth  after  dinner,  or 
to  throw  out  the  contents  of  the  crumb-pan,  hopping 
about  at  your  feet  without  a  thought  of  fear. 

We  never  can  learn  all  there  is  to  know  about  birds. 
We  can  know  only  a  little  about  them  if  we  study  them 
all  our  lives. 

There  is  a  great  professor  in  a  California  university 
who  has  been  trying  all  his  life  to  get  acquainted  with 
fishes,  and  yet  he  says  he  has  much  more  to  learn  about 
them.  Very  little  people,  like  birds  and  fishes  and 
insects,  can  interest  very  great  men,  and  we  often  see 
the  greatest  men  the  kindest  to  small  creatures. 

We  speak  of  birds  in  this  book  as  "people,"  because 
they  seem  very  near  to  us.  They  are  beings  who  think 
and  plan  and  love,  and  who  know  what  it  is  to  be  sorry 
or  glad,  just  like  ourselves. 


CIVILIZED  BIRDS.  9 

CHAPTER   III. 

CIVILIZED    BIRDS, 

IN  new  parts  of  the  county  we  do  not  find  so  many 
birds  living  near  houses  as  we  find  in  older  towns. 
Where  there  is  much  wooded  or  uncultivated  land  for 
them  to  live  and  nest  in,  the  birds  prefer  to  stay  at 
some  distance  from  us.  But  after  the  fields  are  all 
ploughed,  and  the  trees  cut  down,  they  become  civilized 
and  learn  to  love  our  gardens  and  barns  and  houses. 

We  speak  of  birds  as  "wild"  or  "civilized,"  just  as 
we  speak  of  the  races  of  men.  The  birds  in  our  yard 
are  civilized.  They  will  eat  cooked  food  if  we  give 
it  to  them.  They  will  bathe  in  a  tub,  if  it  is  handy, 
as  if  it  were  a  brook  in  the  woods.  They  will  nest  in 
cosey  nooks  about  the  home  in  the  vines  and  under  the 
barn  eaves,  or  in  little  houses  which  we  build  for  them 
and  set  up  on  poles  or  in  the  arbors.  They  will  follow 
the  furrow  which  the  plough  makes,  looking  for  worms, 
and  will  help  themselves  to  our  fruit  without  waiting 
for  an  invitation. 

Many  of  them  soon  learn  to  prefer  the  barn-yard  to 
the  field,  and  will  hop  about  with  the  chickens  under 
the  horse's  feet.  The  sparrows  and  towhees  come  every 
day  when  the  cow  eats  her  pail  of  bran.  They  gather 
about  close  to  her  head  and  watch  for  her  to  finish  her 
meal,  very  much  as  you  have  seen  one  dog  watch 


10  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

another  dog  at  his  bone.  When  the  cow  is  done,  the 
birds  take  possession  of  her  pail  and  pick  out  every 
crumb  she  has  left. 

The  blackbird1  is  more  civilized  than  most  other 
birds.  You  are  all  acquainted  with  him,  for  we  find 
him  at  home  almost  everywhere.  Though  he  dresses 
differently  in  different  parts  of  the  country,  he  is  always 
a  blackbird.  Where  we  live  he  has  a  white  eye,  like  a 
tricky  horse.  He  likes  the  company  of  sheep  and  cattle 
in  our  pastures  and  lanes. 

We  have  seen  these  birds  taking  a  free  ride  all  over 
the  fields,  while  the  good-natured  animals  seemed  to 
like  it  and  did  not  try  to  shake  them  off.  Once  we 
laughed  merrily  when  we  saw  a  whole  flock  of  black- 
birds taking  a  ride  "pig  back,"  while  the  pigs  rooted 
away  in  the  ground,  paying  no  attention  to  the  birds 
on  their  backs. 

Once  when  we  were  in  Sitka,  Alaska,  a  long  way 
from  home,  we  went  out  very  early  to  watch  the  birds. 
We  saw  a  great  black  raven  on  the  back  of  a  donkey 
that  had  been  lying  down  all  night  on  a  bed  of  straw. 
The  raven  pecked  the  donkey's  back  and  made  him  get 
up  from  his  warm  bed.  Then  the  hungry  bird  made  a 
breakfast  of  the  insects  that  had  crept  under  the  donkey 
during  the  cold  night  to  share  his  warmth.  We  were 
told  that  this  raven  was  in  the  habit  of  getting  his 
breakfast  in  this  way. 

1  In  the  west,  Brewer's  blackbird,  Rcnltcophayus  cyanncephahts ; 
in  the  east,  purple  grackle,  Quincalus  quiscnla. 


CIVILIZED  BIRDS. 


11 


In  nesting  time  civilized  birds  are  glad  to  get  the 
odds  and  ends  of  strings  and  cotton  which  we  give 
them.  They  chirp  about  it  while  they  pull  at  the 
twine,  as  if  they  were  saying,  "  What  a  blessing  it  is 


CROW  BLACKBIRD. 


to  live  among  civilized  people,  who  give  us  strings  and 
other  things  to  make  our  cradles  of." 

They  like  to  scratch  in  the  hay  and  chaff  for  kernels 
of  grain.  When  you  see  the  birds  about  the  barn- 
doors, or  under  the  shed  at  the  grain,  watch  them  and 


12  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

notice  that  they  do  riot  really  scratch,  as  at  first  sight 
they  seem  to  do,  but  hop  quickly'  on  both  feet  with 
their  toes  spread  far  apart.  They  hop  so  fast  that  you 
can  scarcely  see  their  feet  through  the  flying  chaff. 

It  is  hard  to  be  quite  certain  whether  a  bird  walks 
or  hops  when  it  is  after  its  food  on  the  ground.  Some 
of  them,  like  the  sparrows  and  towhees,  have  a  quick, 
jerky  pace  that  looks  like  a  very  fast  run. 

Some  birds  never  run  or  hop  on  their  feet.  The  fly- 
catchers and  humming-birds  belong  to  this  class.  Yet 
these  birds  are  not  cripples.  Their  tiny  legs  are  fitted 
only  to  hold  them  on  the  perch.  If  they  wish  to  catch 
an  insect  the  length  of  their  bill  away,  they  will  fly  to 
get  it,  just  as  if  it  were  across  the  yard.  Their  wings 
are  so  strong  and  move  so  quickly  that  these  birds  do 
not  need  to  walk  or  run.  They  sip  their  honey  or 
snatch  flies  and  spiders  while  on  the  wing. 

All  birds  are  alike  in  many  habits,  just  as  people  all 
over  the  world  have  some  ways  in  common.  Yet  there 
are  some  birds  who  are  very  different  from  all  others. 
Indeed,  there  are  so  many  things  to  know  about  them, 
that  it  is  difficult  to  know  just  where  to  begin. 

What  kind  of  clothes  do  birds  wear?  What  do  the}' 
eat,  and  when  is  their  meal-time,  and  how  do  they  fly? 
How  do  they  make  their  nurseries  or  nests,  and  how  do 
they  know  just  how  large  these  ought  to  be  ?  Do  birds 
talk  and  laugh  and  play  at  games  ?  What  sort  of  a 
mother  does  a  bird  make,  and  what  do  the  father  birds 
think  of  the  babies?  Do  birds  have  a  childhood  after 


HOW  BIRDS  DRESS.  13 

their  babyhood,  and  are  they  allowed  by  their  parents 
to  grow  up  idle  and  helpless?  Will  our  wild  birds 
grow  tame  and  trustful  if  we  love  and  pet  them,  and 
do  they  learn  to  prefer  such  food  as  we  eat  ourselves  ? 
In  short,  does  it  pay  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of 
birds  and  to  think  of  them  as  people  ? 

We  will  talk  about  these  things  in  this  little  book, 
and  when  we  are  done,  perhaps  you  will  wonder  that 
you  did  not  get  up  earlier  and  know  more  about  the 
beautiful  little  winged  people  in  your  yard. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

HOW   BIRDS    DKESS. 

IN  temperate  climates  like  this  birds  do  not  dress  in 
such  bright  colors  as  they  do  in  hot  countries.  Their 
coats  and  gowns  are  plainer.  There  are  few  extremes 
in  color  here,  as  there  are  few  extremes  in  heat  or  cold. 

We  can  tell  almost  any  race  or  class  of  people  by 
their  style  of.  dress  or  lack  of  dress.  We  can  name  the 
trees  and  shrubs  and  vines  by  their  foliage,  which  is 
really  their  dress ;  so  we  know  the  different  kinds  of 
birds  by  their  plumage  or  dress* 

Many  birds  resemble  in  color  the  haunts  or  places 
which  they  like  the  best.  Desert  birds  are  pale  or 
gray,  like  the  sand.  Many  of  those  in  the  tropics  are 
dressed  in  gay  colors,  like  the'  bright  blossoms  about 


14  OUR    FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

them,  while  many  birds  in  the  cold  north  are  white 
like  the  snow.  By  this  we  see  that  in  all  nature,  and 
especially  among  the  bird  people,  dress  is  of  great 
importance. 

Some  of  the  larger  and  coarser  birds  have  been  ac- 
cused of  being  very  untidy  about  their  dress.  They  do 
not  seem  to  care  how  they  look,  and  do  not  show  their 
clothes  off  proudly  as  others  do.  But  people  who  think 
this  have  not  observed  them  very  closely.  Birds  like 
the  hawks  and  vultures  are  really  very  neat  and  tidy. 

Turkey  buzzards  l  look  very  ugly  and  rough  at  first 
glance,  but  their  plumage  is  suited  to  their  needs, 
and  they  take  great  pains  to  be  clean. 

You  will  notice  that  the  buzzard  has  no  feathers  on 
his  head  and  neck,  and  it  is  this  lack  of  hat  or  bonnet 
that  makes  this  bird  look  so  odd  and  unlovely.  But 
we  must  not  be  in  a  hurry  to  blame  him  for  this,  nor 
call  him  hard  names  because  he  does  not  happen  to 
wear  a  collar  or  head-dress.  There  are  some  things 
which  we  do  not  understand  unless  we  first  ask  ques- 
tions or  get  better  acquainted  with  people. 

You  see  the  buzzard,  like  the  scavengers  who  clean 
up  our  dirty  streets,  is  always  at  work  on  dead  things 
and  scraps  of  garbage  which  we  do  not  want.  We 
respect  him  for  doing  a  very  necessary  sort  of  work. 
He  must  dress  to  suit  his  occupation,  like  other  sen- 
sible people,  though  we  cannot  help  wishing  the  buz- 
zard had  a  suit  of  Sunday  clothes. 

1  Turkey  vulture,  Cathartes  aura. 


HOW  BIRDS  DRESS. 


15 


TURKEY  BUZZARD. 

He  wears  nothing  on  his  head  because  he  is  obliged 
to  reach  far  in  beneath  bones  and  thick  skin  in  search 
of  food.  If  he  wore  a  head-dress,  like  his  neighbors, 
it  would  get  very  foul  and  ill-smelling,  and  we  should 
think  him  far  'more  untidy  than  he  is.  As  it  is,  he  can 
slip  his  naked  head  into  marrow  bones  and  out  again 
without  much  trouble,  and  not  be  afraid  of  spoiling  his 
hat,  as  other  birds  would. 

We  would  not  care  to  be  daily  companions  of  the 
buzzard  and  the  carrion  crow,  although  they  are  useful 
and  interesting  birds.  We  would  prefer  to  be  in  the 
company  of  better  dressed  and  better  bred  people. 


16  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

Most  of  the  birds  we  know  think  a  great  deal  about 
their  dress.  They  work  much  of  their  time  to  keep  it 
tidy  and  in  good  order.  They  mend  their  clothes,  too, 
although  they  do  not  use  a  needle  and  thread.  A  little 
girl  we  know  laughed  heartily  one  day  when  we  told 
her  that  the  robin  mends  her  dress  when  it  is  torn. 

The  little  girl  had  only  to  watch  and  se«  that  Mrs. 
and  Miss  Robin,  and  other  birds  as  well,  smooth  out 
and  fix  up  the  torn  and  rumpled  feathers  till  they  look 
as  good  as  new. 

Different  kinds  of  birds  have  different  fashions,  but 
these  fashions  never  change.  A  bird  to-day  dresses 
exactly  as  its  grandmother  did,  and  the  birds  never 
seem  to  make  fun  of  one  another  for  being  old- 
fashioned. 

Once  in  a  long  while  we  find  a  solitary  bird  different 
in  color  from  others  of  its  kind.  We  have  seen  a  white 
blue  jay,  and  there  is  in  our  yard  a  brown  towhee  which 
has  two  white  feathers  in  its  wing.  Such  birds  are 
very  rare,  as  are  people  Avho  have  a  spot  of  white  hair 
on  their  heads  when  all  the  rest  is  dark;  or  albinos, 
that  is,  persons  with  pink  eyes  and  very  white  skin, 
although  they  belong  to  a  dark  race. 

Two  suits  of  clothes  a  year  are  quite  enough  for  most 
birds,  while  one  suit  is  all  that  others  can  afford.  But 
birds  are  very  careful  of  their  clothes,  although  they 
never  try  to  dress  more  gaily  than  their  neighbors  and 
friends.  They  only  try  to  be  clean,  and  so  they  set  us 
a  very  good  example. 


HOW  BIRDS  DRESS.  17 

Sit  down  on  the  grass  under  a  tree,  or  on  a  seat  in 
the  park,  and  see  the  birds  dress  themselves.  Every 
separate  feather  is  cleaned  and  pulled  and  looked  over, 
just  as  a  woman  cleans  and  stretches  delicate  lace  and 
embroidery.  See  how  the  loose  feathers  are  pulled  out 
and  dropped,  like  so  many  useless  ravellings  or  worn 
threads.  The  bird  watches  the  falling  plume  until  it 
reaches  the.  ground,  canting  her  head  to  one  side  to  see 
what  becomes  of  her  tatters,  and  then  she  goes  on  with 
her  dressing. 

Madam  Bird  manages  very  well  to  twist  about  and 
reach  all  of  her  clothes  except  her  head-dress.  Have 
you  wondered  how  a  bird  can  turn  its  head  all  around 
in  a  way  that  would  cramp  your  own  neck  if  you  should 
try  it  ?  The  neck  of  a  bird  is  more  flexible  than  yours ; 
that  is,  it  is  furnished  with  more  joints,  so  that  the  bird 
can  turn  its  head  readily  and  dress  itself  with  ease. 

A  bird  never  changes  the  whole  of  its  dress  at  once. 
Little  by  little  the  feathers  drop  out  or  are  pulled  away, 
so  that  they  are  not  missed.  If  they  should  all  come 
out  in  one  day  or  one  week,  the  bird  would  be  helpless 
and  unable  to.  fly. 

If  you  should  attempt  to  smooth  a  bird's  feathers 
without  knowing  how,  you  would  very  likely  make  her 
look  very  ragged.  Naturalists,  who  know  how  because 
they  have  practised  so  much,  can  smooth  and  pull  the 
feathers  as  well  as  the  bird  herself.  Tnev  can  P^k 
up  a  hurt  bird  and  by  a  few  touches  make  her  look 
respectable. 


18  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

CHAPTER   V. 

HOW  MADAM   BIKD   COMBS    HER    HAIR. 

MADAM  BIRD  is  not  able  to  smooth  her  head-dress 
with  her  bill.  What  does  she  do  about  it?  Why,  she 
uses  her  foot,  which  serves  also  as  her  hand. 

Birds  are  either-handed;  that  is,  they  can  use  the 
left  hand  or  foot  as  well  as  the  right.  Some  people 
think  that  a  parrot  is  left-handed,  because  she  always 
takes  in  her  left  hand  the  cracker  or  sugar  which  you 
offer  to  her.  The  next  time  you  feed  her,  stop  and  see 
what  you  are  doing.  You  are  standing  in  front  of  the 
bird  and  offering  her  the  cracker  in  your  right  hand. 
She  is  facing  you,  and  of  course  takes  the  food  with 
her  left  hand.  Everybody  gives  her  things  in  the  same 
way,  and  she  naturally  uses  her  left  hand,  because  we 
teach  her  to  do  so. 

But  wild  birds  are  either  handed.  Watch  and  see 
how  they  comb  their  hair,  first  on  one  side  and  then  on 
the  other,  scratching  very  fast,  as  if  to  get  all  the  tan- 
gles out,  but  never  crying,  "Oh,  don't!"  when  it 
pulls.  We  call  the  fine  feathers  "hair,"  because  they 
grow  on  the  bird's  head  as  our  hair  does  on  our 
own. 

See  how  Mrs.  Bird  lifts  her  crown  and  separates  the 
soft  feathers,  and  fixes  her  frizzes  or  bangs,  if  she  wears 
them.  After  she  has  combed  her  hair  this  way  long 


HOW  MADAM  BIRD   COMBS  HER   HAIR.  19 

enough,  she  smoothes  it  down  in  good  order  with  her 
hair  dressing,  as  you  will  see  later  on. 

Did  you  ever  notice  a  bird  wash  its  ears?  That  is 
enough  to  make  you  smile,  but  we  assure  you  it  does 
wash  its  ears  and  all  around  its  mouth  after  its  meals, 
and  between  meals  as  often  as  it  is  necessary. 

Watch  your  tame  canary;  he  is  very  much  like  wild 
birds  in  habits  of  neatness.  See  him  stand  on  one  foot 
and  reach  the  other  foot  up  quickly  between  the  long 
feathers  of  his  wing  and  dig  away  at  his  ears,  just  as  if 
his  mother  had  told  him  to  "get  ready  for  school." 

We  have  laughed  many  a  time  to  see  him  wash  him- 
self, he  does  it  so  deftly  and  cheerfully,  as  if  it  were 
the  greatest  fun  in  the  world.  Then,  to  get  the  corners 
of  his  mouth  clean,  he  wipes  them  on  his  towel.  His 
towel  is  his  perch  or  any  cross-bar  in  the  cage.  You 
may  say  he  is  "sharpening  his  bill,"  but  he  is  really 
wiping  his  face.  He  has  probably  washed  it  in  his 
bath  a  few  minutes  before. 

Some  birds  wear  their  hair  done  up  high  on  their 
heads  like  a  "pug,"  —the  "crest"  as  we  call  it,  standing 
out  like  the  twist  of  the  fashion.  Others,  such  as  our 
mountain  quail,1  prefer  something  like  a  Chinaman's 
queue  or  the  revolutionary  braids.  Others  still  comb 
their  hair  down  plain  and  neat  like  little  Quakers. 

But  whichever  way  a  bird  dresses   its  head,   it  is 
always  becoming  and  pretty.     We  have  watched  birds 
dressing  themselves,  sitting  or  standing  on  the  edge  of 
1  In  Southern  California,  Oreortyx  pictus  plumiferus. 


20  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

the  tub  under  the  hydrant,  or  at  the  brook  or  puddle, 
and  we  have  wondered  if  they  were  not  looking  at 
themselves  in  the  water,  flirting  and  twisting  and  turn- 
ing about  just  like  real  people  at  a  looking-glass. 

Most  birds  wear  short  dresses  or  skirts  in  true  walk- 
ing style,  while  a  few  prefer  the  trail.  But  one  tiling 
we  have  noticed :  they  never  allow  the  trail  to  drag  in 
\ 


MOUNTAIN  QUAIL. 

the  dust  or  mud,  not  even  the  road-runner,  whose  train 
is  sometimes  twelve  inches  long. 

A  mocking-bird  or  a  robin  will  let  her  train  just 
touch  the  ground  when  she  stretches  up  to  look  about 
her;  but  when  she  begins  to  walk  again  she  lifts  it. 
So  you  never  see  the  tip  of  the  longest  tail  one  bit 
draggled,  unless  the  bird  is  wounded  or  sick. 

If  you  watch  closely,  you  will  learn  to  tell  a  male 
bird  from  a  female  bird  by  its  dress.  To  be  sure,  his 


HO IV  MADAM  BIRD   COMBS  HER  HAIR.  21 

coat  skirts  are  cut  so  much  like  the  dress  of  his  mate 
that  we  sometimes  have  to  imagine  a  good  deal  to  see 
any  difference. 

But,  as  a  rule,  you  can  tell  the  male  or  gentleman 
bird  because  he  dresses  so  much  more  gayly  than  his 
mate,  although  we  do  not  think  he  spends  quite  so 
much  time  as  she  in  fixing  and  mending  his  clothes 
and  in  bathing.  The  lady  bird  works  harder  than  her 
mate  in  going  to  market  to  get  lumber  and  nails  for 
her  house  or  cradle,  and  so  she  soils  her  clothes  more. 
Then  she  sits  longer  in  the  nest  and  works  harder  in 
many  ways,  never  once  thinking  about  putting  on  an 
apron. 

You  must  not  think  too  hard  of  the  gentleman  birds 
for  letting  their  mates  do  the  most  of  the  home  work, 
for  you  remember  that  it  is  the  male  who  must  always 
be  ready  for  his  place  in  the  orchestra  at  a  moment's 
notice.  He  is  obliged  to  make  most  of  the  music,  and 
if  he  should  neglect  his  duty  he  would  probably  lose 
his  place  and  be  put  out  of  the  choir. 

A  singer  bird  has  no  notes  spread  out  before  him, 
but  must  go  over  and  over  his  part,  until  he  knows  it 
by  heart  with  no  one  to  prompt  him. 

You  need  not  be  surprised  because  we  said  a  bird 
must  get  lumber  and  nails  for  her  house  or  cradle.  If 
she  did  not  have  lumber  and  nails,  she  could  not  do  her 
work.  Of  course  you  never  hear  her  pounding  with 
a  hammer,  still  she  uses  what  may  be  called  nails,  as 
you  shall  see  by  and  by. 


22  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

I  should  not  have  to  change  my  dress 

Were  I  a  bird  in  yonder  tree, 
And  say,  "  Excuse  me,  if  you  please," 

When  callers  come  to  visit  rne. 
But  I  would  fly  upon  a  bough, 

And  say,  "  My  dear,  come  right  up  here. 
And  \ve  would  sit  and  swing  and  chat 

Beneath  the  sky  so  blue  and  clear. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

WHAT   BIRDS   CARRY  IN  THEIR    POCKETS. 

SOME  birds  wear  on  their  heads  plumes,  or  bright  and 
showy  hats.  These  they  sometimes  lift  in  true  bird 
style.  There  is  the  ruby-crowned  kinglet l  which  one 
sees  in  the  garden  trees.  When  this  little  king  lifts 
his  hat,  he  shows  what  looks  like  a  ruby  crown  or  jewel 
on  top  of  his  head. 

Other  birds  wear  cocked  hats,  or  tall  silk  hats  with 
waving  plumes.  You  can  imagine  almost  anything 
you  like  in  the  dress  of  a  bird,  from  his  hat  to  his 
shoes.  When  a  bird  who  wears  a  hat  is  surprised  by 
another  bird,  or  is  angry,  or  when  he  wants  to  "  show 
off "  to  his  mate  while  paying  his  respects  to  her,  he 
lifts  the  feathers  on  the  top  of  his  head;  and  this  is 
what  we  call  "lifting  his  hat." 

Many  of  our  merry  little  bird  friends,  both  male  and 
1  JReyulus  calendula. 


WHAT  BIRDS   CARRY  IN    THEIR   POCKETS.        23 

female,  wear  bonnets  or  hoods,  which  we  think  are  tied 
closely  under  the  chin.  Others,  like  the  woodpeckers, 
wear  collars  of  lace.  This  lace  is  made  of  loose,  filmy 
feathers,  as  different  from  the  feathers  of  the  breast  or 
back  as  embroidery  is  different  from  closely  woven  cloth. 


RUBY-CROWNED  KINGLET. 

When  a  warm  day  comes,  you  will  see  the  birds  lift 
their  wings  and  hold  their  feathers  close,  and  pant 
with  their  bills  open.  How  tired  they  look,  and  the 
song  or  twitter  which  you  hear  is  a  weary  one,  as  if 
they  were  saying,  "  The  oldest  inhabitant  never  saw  so 
warm  a  day."  In  a  cold  snap  the  dress  fluffs  out,  and 
the  bird  looks  much  larger  than  he  did  on  the  warm 


24 


OUR  FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 


day.     It  seems  as  if  he  were  saying,  "  See  me  make  my 
wraps  as  big  and  thick  as  I  can." 

Many  of  the  birds  that  sit  up  and  fly  about  all  the 
long  cold  night  are  more  warmly  clothed  than  most  day 
birds,  who  tuck  themselves  into  bed  as  soon  as  the  sun 
sets.  Examine  the  owls  and  see  how  warmly  they 


SHORT-EARED  OWL. 

dress.  Many  of  them  wear  trousers  of  feathers,  reach- 
ing to  the  knees  or  coming  low  down  to  the  ankles. 
Often  their  feet  are  covered  with  feathers  down  to  their 
sharp  claws.  Their  necks,  too,  are  all  wrapped  up  with 
feathers,  like  comforters  or  woollen  scarfs,  so  that  only 
the  bill  may  be  seen. 

It  gets  pretty  cold  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and 


WHAT  BIRDS   CARRY  IN   THEIR  POCKETS.        25 

Mr.  Owl  knows  how  to  wrap  himself  up.  Besides, 
with  these  thick,  soft  feathers  he  can  fly  after  his  prey 
without  making  any  noise. 

A  bird's  shoes  and  stockings  are  strong  and  never 
seem  to  wear  out.  If  they  become  worn,  they  are 
mended  so  quickly  you  never  know  the  difference. 
The  foot  and  leg  are  covered  with  scales,  like  the 
scales  on  a  lizard. 

Birds  and  lizards  are  much  alike;  in  fact,  they  are 
a  sort  of  cousin  or  distant  relative,  so  that  they  dress 
alike  in  the  matter  of  shoes  and  stockings.  Only  the 
lizard  wears  scales  all  over,  while  a  bird  wears  them 
only  for  shoes  and  stockings.  The  bird  has  found  out 
that  feathers  are  better  for  flying  in  the  air,  while  the 
lizard,  crawling  as  he  always  does,  is  perfectly  happy 
with  only  scales  for  clothes. 

All  birds,  big  and  little,  wear  warm,  fleecy  under- 
clothes, better  and  softer  than  flannel.  You  can  see 
bits  of  these  underclothes  at  the  bottoms  of  the  knee 
trousers  or  dresses,  or,  if  you  happen  to  be  holding  a 
bird  in  your  hand,  you  can  part  the  outer  clothes  and 
see  and  feel  the  delicate  down.  Sometimes,  when  a 
bird  ruffles  his  outer  garments  in  washing  himself,  the 
soft  warm  underclothes  are  in  plain  sight. 

Birds  never  use  complexion  powders;  that,  no  doubt, 
would  seem  very  vulgar  to  them.  But  they  do  use  hair 
oil  every  day.  They  carry  this  mixture  about  with 
them  in  their  pockets.  By  pockets  we  mean  little 
pouches  or  sacks  which  always  lie  on  the  back,  near  the 


26  OUR   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

tail.  Birds  would  not  be  quite  dressed  without  their 
pockets,  and  they  know  where  to  find  them  without 
any  trouble.  We  suppose  this  is  because  birds'  pockets 
have  always  been  in  the  same  place. 

If  it  looks  like  rain,  the  "hair  oil,"  as  we  call  it,  is 
used  more  freely.  Suppose  the  lady  bird  wishes  to  oil 
the  back  of  her  head  and  around  her  face.  Of  course 
she  is  not  able  to  take  up  the  bottle  and  pour  the  oil  into 
her  hand ;  but  she  squeezes  a  little  out  with  her  beak, 
as  you  would  press  a  rubber  bulb.  Then  she  lays  the 
oil  on  her  back  just  above  her  wings. 

To  get  the  oil  all  about  where  she  wishes  to  put  it, 
she  rubs  her  head  against  it,  twisting  and  turning  her 
neck,  until  all  the  feathers  of  her  head  are  straight  and 
shining. 

When  a  shower  comes,  the  water  falls  or  slides  down 
the  bird's  back  and  shoulders  on  the  oil,  never  finding 
its  wet  way  beneath  to  the  underclothing.  Birds  are 
like  those  people  who  live  in  the  cold  and  wet  north. 
The  Eskimo  are  said  to  rub  their  whole  bodies  with 
seal  or  fish  oil  to  keep  themselves  from  being  wet. 

Bird  babies  seldom  have  any  clothing  to  begin  life 
with.  A  few,  such  as  the  walkers  and  waders  and 
most  of  the  swimmers,  like  quail  and  sandpipers  and 
ducks,  are  covered  with  thick  down  when  they  come 
out  of  their  shell. 

Many  of  the  bird  babies  in  our  yard  have  hardly  a 
trace  of  the  finest  down,  while  others  have  a  little  of  it 
in  patches,  like  tiny  shirts  or  bibs.  Birds  which  have 


WHAT  BIRDS   CARRY  IN   THEIR   POCKETS. 


27 


no  clothes  are  hatched  in  the  warmest  nests,  and  are 
close  to  the  mother's  breast  almost  all  the  time,  until 
their  clothes  have  time  to  grow.  They  do  not  have  oil 
in  their  pockets  until  they  have  feathers  to  put  it  on. 

A  baby  bird  has  such  a  wide  mouth  that  he  looks 
very  odd.     But  then,  you  see,  his  mouth  is  wide  on 


purpose,  so  that  the  parent  birds  can  drop  the  food  in 
quickly.  If  the  parents  had  to  hunt  around  to  find  six 
or  eight  little  mouths,  many  a  nice  bug  or  worm  would 
get  away  and  the  babies  go  hungry. 

Look  into  a  nest  and  see  that  four  or  five  open  bills 
are  as  much  of  the  young  birds  as  you  can  catch  sight 
of  above  the  edge  of  the  nest.  Each  is  trying  to  open 


28  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

his  mouth  a  little  wider  than  his  brothers  and  sisters 
so  that  it  can  get  the  first  mouthful.  We  have  often 
wondered  how  the  mother  knows  which  bird  to  feed 
when  she  comes  to  the  nest.  We  spent  two  or  three 
days  once  to  be  quite  sure  that  she  fed  all  alike.  She 
fed  them  in  turn,  even  though  she  returned  many  times, 
not  once  giving  the  last  one  another  bite  until  she  had 
been  all  around.  We  do  not  know  whether  she  counts 
them  or  calls  them  by  name,  but  she  makes  no  mistake 
in  feeding  them. 

We  saw  a  humming-bird  mother  one  day  stand  on 
the  head  of  one  little  baby  birdling  while  she  fed  the 
other.  Not  all  of  her  weight  was  on  the  bird,  of  course, 
but  quite  enough  to  make  him  keep  out  of  her  way 
while  she  fed  his  brother. 

A  baby  bird  gains  nothing  by  teasing  and  coaxing; 
it  must  wait  for  its  turn  to  come,  no  matter  how  hungry 
it  happens  to  be.  It  is  probably  more  greedy  than 
hungry  when  it  wants  to  get  more  than  its  share. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

CHILD   BIRDS. 

DURING  childhood,  that  is,  during  the  first  season, 
most  birds  look  quite  different  from  their  parents. 
Many  of  them  do  not  get  the  color  or  texture  of 
grown-up  birds  for  a  year  or  more. 


CHILD   BIRDS.  29 

You  can  soon  learn  to  tell  which  are  the  children 
among  the  birds  by  what  the}^  wear  and  by  the  way  they 
talk.  Their  voices  are  childish  and  coaxing.  They 
sometimes  cry,  and  call  in  piping  tones  even  after  they 
have  learned  to  fly  to  the  highest  tree,  or  to  soar  far 
into  the  blue  sky,  just  to  see  how  high  they  can  go. 

We  have  sometimes  thought  that  bird  children  play 
at  games  of  hide-and-seek  among  the  bushes,  and  that 
they  try  to  see  which  one  of  them  can  jump  the  farthest. 
Watch  them  for  yourselves,  and  you  will  see  such  fun 
as  will  make  you  laugh. 

Birds  are  like  other  children,  they  get  hungry  very 
often  at  their  play.  We  have  seen  whole  broods  of 
young  orioles  following  the  old  birds  about  and  teas- 
ing for  food  long  after  the  next  nest  of  birdlings  was 
hatched.  These  teasing  children  were  as  large  as  their 
parents,  and  might  better  have  been  feeding  their 
younger  brothers  and  sisters. 

Parent  birds  often  drive  their  young  away  from  them, 
and  eat  the  food  which  they  have  caught  themselves 
right  before  the  children,  as  if  to  say,  "  Go,  find  some 
for  yourselves.-" 

In  Southern  California,  where  we  live,  in  midsummer 
the  yard  seems  full  of  young  linnets  l  coaxing  from  day- 
light till  dark.  All  the  limbs  of  the  trees  are  alive 
with  them.  They  stand  in  rows,  with  their  mouths 
wide  open,  and  we  wonder  how  the  old  birds  can  take 
care  of  so  many  children  at  once.  We  see  the  young 
1  House  finch,  Carpodacus  mexicanus  frontalis. 


30 


OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


birds  teasing  one  another  sometimes,  as  if  they  were 
saying,  "Tommy  dear,"  or,  "Susy  dear,  please  divide 
your  lunch." 


LINNET. 

So  we  see  that  birds  have  a  childhood  as  well  as  a 
babyhood,  but  it  is  very  short,  for  they  are  soon  taught 
to  work  hard  and  to  be  self-supporting. 

A  lazy  young  bird  never  gets  on  in  the  world. 
Parent  birds  are  very  kind  but  firm.  It  sounds  as  if 


CHILD  BIRDS.  31 

they  were  sometimes  scolding  good-naturedly.  We 
imagine  them  saying  to  their  children,  "We  have 
shown  you  the  seeds  and  the  berries,  now  go  to  work. 
If  you  want  food,  help  yourselves ;  for  we  have  been  to 
market  for  you  long  enough.  Dress  yourselves,  too. 
See  how  you  each  have  a  bottle  of  oil.  Now  be  neat 
and  careful  of  your  clothes,  for  it  will  be  a  long  while 
before  you  get  any  more." 

We  have  seen  young  birds  make  very  awkward 
attempts  at  dressing  themselves.  Sitting  in  a  tree, 
they  try  to  imitate  the  old  birds,  fluttering  and  turning 
about,  and  rubbing  their  small  heads  on  their  shoulders, 
and  falling  off  from  the  branch  in  their  excitement. 

It  is  this  daily  care  of  their  clothes  that  makes  birds 
so  beautiful.  It  seems  to  us  that  they  know  very  well 
that  they  will  not  be  able  to  get  a  new  suit  very  often, 
and  that  they  must  take  good  care  of  those  clothes  they 
have.  We  have  never  seen  child  birds  smear  their  food 
over  their  faces  and  clothes,  not  even  when  they  were 
eating  bread  arid  butter  and  stewed  blackberries.  It 
may  seem  funny  to  you  that  birds  should  eat  bread  and 
butter  and  stewed  blackberries,  as  if  they  were  cooks 
and  housekeepers.  But  they  really  do,  as  you  shall 
see  by  and  by. 

Little  birds  pay  attention  to  what  is  said  to  them. 
They  learn  their  lessons  well,  and  they  "say  their 
pieces  "  like  any  child,  and,  like  children,  they  seem 
to  make  mistakes  at  first.  They  do  not  take  their 
dinner-pails  and  go  long  distances  to  school.  They 


32  OUR   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

learn  at  home  with  their  fathers  and  mothers  and 
brothers  and  sisters. 

The  school-house  is  anywhere,  in  the  yard  or  the 
woods  or  fields.  If  you  take  the  trouble  to  listen 
and  keep  very  quiet  in  midsummer,  you  will  be  able  to 
see  and  hear  these  bird  schools  going  on  at  a  rate  that 
will  make  you  smile  and  think  that  birds  are  real  people. 

You  can  see  the  children  in  the  nests  or  on  the 
branches  of  trees,  or  even  on  the  ground,  learning 
musical  notes,  and  the  letters  of  their  alphabet,  and 
running  the  bird  scale,  just  like  any  class  in  school. 
Every  now  and  then  you  will  see  them  skip  out  for  a 
drink  of  water  at  the  pump  or  brook.  They  may  not 
hurry  back  at  once,  but  stop  to  look  at  themselves  in 
the  water  and  to  frolic  about  in  the  ferns  and  grass. 

Birds  have  a  very  happy  childhood.  It  will  pay  any 
child  or  grown  person  to  spend  a  whole  summer  or 
autumn  in  studying  them  and.  their  ways.  This  would 
be  much  better  than  wishing  one  could  go  somewhere, 
when  one  hasn't  the  money  to  go  with,  or  being  un- 
happy because  one  hasn't  fine  clothes  and  houses. 

Young  birds  do  not  seem  to  be  very  much  afraid  of 
us.  They  only  look  a  little  surprised  and  try  to  hop  a 
bit  faster  if  we  go  too  near  them. 

See  how  queer  the  tops  of  their  heads  look,  with  the 
baby  down  still  sticking  out  in  little  tufts  through  the 
thicker  feathers.  Their  lips,  too,  along  the  edges  of 
the  bill !  —  how  yellow  they  are,  as  though  they  had  just 
been  eating  new  spring  butter. 


HOW  BABY  BIRDS  ARE  FED.  33 

Those  soft  yellow  lips  will  soon  turn  dark  and  hard 
from  use,  just  as  a  real  baby's  feet  lose  their  pink  soft- 
ness and  grow  callous  when  the  child  goes  barefoot  a 
while. 

Altogether,  bird  children  are  very  interesting,  and 
one  who  loves  them  never  gets  tired  of  watching  them. 
There  is  something  new  and  charming  to  learn  every 
day.  We  wonder  that  there  are  any  unhappy  or  cross 
or  sulky  people  in  the  world,  when  they  may  have  the 
birds  to  teach  them  better. 

There  is  many  a  kind  little  boy  who  picks  up  a  child 
bird  and  puts  it  in  a  high  place  out  of  reach  of  cats 
and  naughty  boys.  These  may  be  sure  that  the  mother 
bird  will  find  her  young  one,  and  you  may  hear  her 
thanking  you,  if  you  listen.  Besides,  every  time  a 
boy  is  good  to  a  child  bird  he  has  made  his  own  child- 
hood richer  and  happier. 

O  happy  little  bird-child,  full  of  life  and  glee, 
Won't  you  stay  this  summer  in  the  yard  with  me  ? 
You  shall  have  some  berries  when  the  berries  grow ; 
Berries  don't  hurt  children  —  mother  told  me  so. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

HOW   BABY  BIRDS   ARE  FED. 

SOME  of  the  baby  birds  are  nurslings,  like  the  lambs 
and  'colts.  They  are  dependent  upon  what  the  parent 
birds  first  eat  and  digest.  Others  eat  just  what  the 


34  OUR  FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

old  birds  do  from  the  start.  Only  you  will  notice  that 
the  mother  bird  pounds  and  bruises  the  food  she  gives 
to  her  young,  tapping  it  on  the  edge  of  the  nest  or  on 
a  twig  or  the  ground  until  it  is  soft  enough  for  the 
birds  to  swallow  without  danger  of  scratching  their 
tender  throats. 

Linnets,  pigeons,  humming-birds.,  and  some  of  the 
finches,  are  nurslings.  The  food  is  prepared  for  them  by 
the  parent  birds,  and  the  young  are  fed  by  the  old  bird's 
bill.  We  imagine  that  the  bill  of  the  parent  bird  is 
the  nursing-bottle.  The  old  birds  first  eat  food  them- 
selves, and  then  work  it  over  in  their  crops  into  a  sort 
of  paste  or  milky  fluid.  Then,  when  the  meal  is  all 
ready,  they  alight  on  the  edge  of  the  nest  and  feed  the 
babies.  We  have  seen  humming-bird  mothers  feed  the 
babies  while  poised  on  their  wings  above  the  nest. 

Perhaps  there  are  four  or  five  finches  all  clamoring 
for  breakfast,  crying,  and  stretching  their  little  necks 
up  as  high  as  possible.  The  old  bird  on  the  edge  of 
the  nest  looks  at  the  open  mouths  of  all  her  babies,  and 
begins  at  the  one  she  thinks  is  the  hungriest.  She 
puts  the  nursing-bottle,  which  is  her  bill,  far  down  the 
throat  of  the  nursling,  clinging  fast  to  the  nest  or  twig 
with  her  toes,  and  moving  her  bill  up  and  down,  her 
own  throat  throbbing  all  the  while. 

We  once  saw  a  humming-bird  feed  one  of  her  young 
ones  and  then  fly  away.  During  her  absence  the  little 
birds  changed  places  in  the  nest,  turning  completely 
around.  When  the  mother  came  back  to  finish  giving 


HOW  BABY  BIRDS  ARE  FED.  35 

them  their  breakfast,  she  made  no  mistake,  but  fed  the 
hungry  one,  though  both  had  their  bills  wide  open. 

When  the  mother  has  fed  one  child  as  much  as  she 
thinks  is  its  share,  she  turns  to  the  next  open  mouth. 
In  tli is  way  she  nurses  the  whole  cradleful,  who  seem 
never  to  be  satisfied. 


HUMMING-BIRD   FEEDING  HER   YOUNG. 

We  have  seen  no  "runts  "  or  dwarf  birds  in  a  family, 
as  are  sometimes  seen  in  a  nest  of  pigk  or  puppies. 
The  parent  birds  seem  to  understand,  and  to  see  that 
each  baby  has  its  proper  share  and  not  a  crumb  more. 
They  do  not  love  one  better  than  another. 

Some  birds  keep  on  nursing  their  young  long  after 
we  think  the  lazy  children  are  large  enough  to  be 
looking  out  for  themselves.  It  would  be  no  better 


36  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

than  they  deserve  if  they  had  to  go  hungry  sometimes. 
We  think  they  often  must  get  very  hungry  before  they 
have  learned  to  work  for  their  board.  This  is  all  right, 
for  if  the  parents  kept  on  supporting  them,  what  use- 
less creatures  they  would  be! 

We  shall  tell  you  after  a  while  about  our  bird's 
restaurant.  We  have  seen  the  young  birds  follow 
their  mother  to  the  table  at  this  restaurant  and  stand 
coaxing  for  the  crumbs.  At  first  the  mocking-bird 
mother  picks  up  the  food  and  puts  it  in  the  young 
bird's  mouth,  and  then  she  flies  away.  She  has  given 
it  only  a  little,  just  to  show  the  little  bird  where  the 
food  is  and  how  to  pick  it  up  himself.  There  he  will 
stand,  looking  at  the  cookie  crumbs  and  teasing  as  loud 
as  he  can,  but  the  mother  will  not  come  back.  She  sits 
in  a  tree  near  by  watching  to  see  how  her  bird  child 
learns  his  first  lesson  at  helping  himself. 

After  a  while,  the  young  bird  gets  very  hungry  and 
begins  pecking  for  the  crumbs.  At  first  he  makes  very 
awkward  attempts  at  grabbing  a  crumb,  but  he  suc- 
ceeds at  last  and  swallows  the  rest  of  his  breakfast. 
We  laugh,  sitting  in  the  shade  watching  him,  and  we 
think  his  mother  is  laughing  too,  in  the  tree  above. 

Those  birds  that  do  not  nurse  their  young  with 
liquid  food  are  supposed  to  give  them  water  as  well  as 
food,  by  bringing  it  to  them  in  their  beaks,  though  we 
have  not  seen  them  do  so.  Probably  the  babies  are  fed 
on  soft  worms  and  fruits  until  they  have  cut  their  first 
teeth. 


HOW  BABY  BIRDS  ARE  FED.  37 

How  can  the  little  things  eat  hard  seeds  and  bones 
before  they  have  any  teeth  ?  Does  it  make  you  smile 
and  wonder  when  we  speak  of  baby  birds  cutting  their 
teeth  ?  Don't  you  suppose  birds  have  teeth  ?  Of  course 
they  have. 

Every  bird  has  a  set  of  false  teeth  working  out  of 
sight.  Birds  never  have  the  toothache,  and  they  do 
not  have  to  be  brave  and  hold  still  while  somebody 
pulls  their  teeth  out.  They  can  have  a  new  set  of  teeth 
as  often  as  they  need  them,  without  paying  a  good 
price  to  the  dentist. 

Look  along  the  path  and  you  will  see  these  teeth, 
lying  as  thick  as  hail  in  some  places.  Little  sharp 
stones,  coarse  gravel,  and  fine  sand, —  these  are  the 
bird's  teeth.  When  a  bird  picks  them  up,  he  swallows 
them,  and  they  go,  without  any  trouble,  right  where 
they  belong,  down  to  a  kind  of  pouch  or  pocket  called 
the  gizzard.  This  pocket  is  lined  with  very  tough 
muscles.  These  muscles  or  rings  look  something  like 
a  fluting-iron  or  washboard,  and  as  they  move  they  set 
the  teeth  or  little  stones  to  rolling  against  the  food  in 
such  a  way  that  it  is  soon  ground  into  bits,  or  rather 
into  paste. 

It  takes  a  baby  bird  a  long  time  to  learn  to  pick  up 
anything  with  its  bill.  It  will  peck  and  peck  at  the 
food  without  being  able  to  touch  it,  as  we  have  seen 
many  birds  do  when  brought  up  in  a  cage,  and  as  the 
little  mocking-birds  do  at  the  garden  table. 

Once  we  had  some  pet  orioles,  and  before  we  noticed 


38 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


what  he  was  doing,  one  of  them  made  his  bill  look  like 
a  hawk's  bill,  all  curved  or  crooked.  He  had  pecked 
so  hard  at  the  food  on  the  board  floor  of  his  cage  that 
the  hard  taps  had  bent  his  soft  bill  out  of  shape,  and  it 
remained  so  after  the  bird  had  grown  up.  We  have 
seen  a  blue  jay  and  a  thrush  and  a  towhee,  each  with 


BLUE  JAY. 

his  beak  out  of  shape,  twisted  .to  one  side  or  broken. 
This  must  have  been  done  when  they  were  little. 
Birds,  like  other  people,  must  have  the  right  start  if 
they  are  to  be  beautiful  when  they  are  older. 

Though  young  birds  can  see  the  food  before  them, 
they  have  to  try  a  long  while  before  they  know  exactly 
how  to  take  hold  of  it.  They  make  us  think  of  real 


AT  MEAL- TIME.  39 

babies  trying  to  pick  up  some  toy  with  their  fat  little 
hands.  A  bird's  bill  at  first  is  very  soft,  like  a  baby's 
bones.  If  you  feel  of  it,  you  will  see  that  to  the  touch 
it  is  like  a  piece  of  rubber. 

The  difficulty  is  really  more  with  the  bird's  eyes  than 
with  his  bill,  for  it  seems  that,  although  he  sees  the 
food  which  he  wants  to  eat,  he  cannot  measure  the  dis- 
tance correctly  until  he  has  learned  how  to  see  straight 
and  aim  right. 

"  Let  me  look  in  your  mouth,  little  bird ; 

How  many  white  teeth  have  you  ? 
No  teeth  ?  then  how  do  you  chew  your  food  ? 
Be  honest  and  tell  me  true." 

"  My  teeth  are  all  out  of  sight,  little  boy, 
They  are  hard  and  white  and  firm ;  — 
Out  of  sight,  but  they  grind  the  seeds  like  a  mill, 
And  the  bug,  and  the  nice  fat  worm." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

AT  MEAL-TIME. 

IF  we  had  twenty  birds  in  a  cage  and  had  to  hunt 
for  all  the  food  they  could  eat,  the  same  as  they  would 
do  if  they  were  free,  we  should  have  a  busy  time  of  it, 
and  very  likely  the  birds  would  starve. 

Birds  have  sharp  eyes.  Watch  the  finches  and  see 
how  they  hop  from  twig  to  twig,  pecking  at  tiny  things 


40  OUE  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

which  we  cannot  even  see.  These  birds  seem  to  be 
near-sighted,  finding  their  dinner  right  under  their  eyes.. 
We  could  not  possibly  see  anything  so  near  our  faces. 

Then  there  are  some  of  the  birds  who  seem  far- 
sighted,  seeing  food  at  a  longer  distance  than  we  could, 
and  darting  for  it  as  quick  as  a  flash. 

It  is  a  fact  that  most  birds  are  both  near-sighted  and 
far-sighted.  Their  eyes  are  both  telescopes  and  micro- 
scopes. Watch  Madam  Mocker  or  Mrs.  Robin.  She 
will  see  a  grasshopper  on  the  other  side  of  the  lawn,  or 
a  daddy-long-legs  taking  a  sun-bath  at  the  far  end  of 
the  picket  fence.  The  grasshopper  and  the  daddy 
haven't  time  to  get  up  and  be  off  before  they  are  sur- 
prised by  Madam  Bird's  sharp  bill. 

Birds,  like  other  people,  must  work  if  they  will  eat, 
and  so  they  go  in  search  of  the  cupboard  or  the  cellar, 
and  it  is  sometimes  hard  work  to  find  them.  The  cup- 
board is  anywhere  in  a  dry  place,  and  the  door  is  never 
locked.  The  cellar  is  almost  anywhere,  too,  where  it 
is  cool  and  damp,  under  the  grass  and  chips  and  down 
in  cracks  between  logs  and  boards.  The  food  in  the 
cellar  is  very  unlike  the  food  in  the  cupboard. 

There  are  some  insects  that  never  see  the  light  and 
cannot  bear  the  sunshine.  They  are  usually  soft,  tender 
things,  and  live  where  it  is  moist  and  cool.  We  call 
these  the  food  in  the  bird's  cellar.  There  are  other 
insects  that  love  the  dry  air,  where  it  is  warm,  the 
bark  of  trees  and  the  hot  sand,  and  these  we  call  the 
food  in  the  bird's  cupboard. 


AT  MEAL-TIME.  41 

Birds  spend  nearly  all  their  time  in  hunting  for 
something  to  eat.  Life  seems  to  be  one  long  picnic 
for  them.  They  digest  rapidly.  Their  food  is  found 
and  picked  up  in  very  small  quantities,  excepting  the 
food  of  the  gourmands  like  the  buzzards.  These  birds 
are  certainly  not  very  tidy  or  nice  about  their  meals. 
They  eat  as  much  as  they  possibly  can,  and  then  sit 
about  on  the  low  fences,  or  even  on  the  ground,  too 
full  and  heavy  to  fly  away. 

Birds  have  sharp  ears  and  can  hear  bugs  and  worms 
long  before  they  can  be  seen.  The  woodpecker  listens 
for  the  grubs  with  his  ear  close  to  the  bark  of  the  trees. 
But  woodpeckers  are  not  always  after  grubs  when  you 
see  them  running  up  and  down  a  tree  trunk  and  peck- 
ing holes  in  the  bark.  They  like  the  inner  skin  of  the 
bark  for  food,  and  the  sap-suckers  drink  the  sap  of  the 
tree. 

Watch  the  robin  or  the  mocking-bird  on  the  lawn. 
You  have  been  sprinkling  that  lawn  for  two  weeks  in 
midsummer,  just  to  make  the  grass  nice  and  green. 
Perhaps  you  did  not  think  that  you  were  making  it 
easy  for  the  birds  to  get  something  to  eat  in  a  dry  time. 
But  you  see  that  your  sprinkling  or  watering  has  made 
the  turf  mellow  and  soft,  so  that  the  worms  can  crawl 
up  to  the  surface  more  easily  than  if  it  were  dry.  And 
the  birds  are  making  the  most  of  your  kindness,  as  you 
see. 

See  how  that  little  bird  cants  his  head  and  listens. 
We  imagine  him  holding  up  his  hand  and  saying, 


42 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


"Don't  move,  please,  nor  do  anything  to  scare  this 
worm  away.  I  hear  it  coming  up  to  the  top  of  the 
ground,  and  I  am  very  hungry." 


DOWNY  WOODPECKER. 


Once  we  saw  a  very  funny  sight.  A  mocking-bird 
in  the  yard  had  grown  very  tame  and  had  nested  close 
by,  taking  no  pains  to  fly  away  from  us.  She  soon 
came  to  know  that  we  had  something  for  her  to  eat 


AT  MEAL-TIME.  43 

when  we  called,  "Come,  Chickie,"  and  she  would  fly 
close  to  us  with  eager  eyes,  not  at  all  afraid. 

Every  night  at  sundown,  which  is  the  bird's  supper- 
time,  we  went  to  the  summer-house  and  turned  over 
the  empty  flower-pots.  Under  these  pots  little  black 
bugs  were  hiding,  but  more  especially  the  saw-bugs, 
soft,  gray,  crawling  things.  The  mocking-bird  would 
follow  us  as  fast  as  she  could,  picking  up  the  bugs  for 
her  young.  When  she  had  a  mouth  full  of  the  wrig- 
gling insects,  she  would  go  and  feed  them  to  her  babies 
and  come  back  again  to  the  moist  places  under  the  pots, 
until  every  bug  was  captured. 

Once  there  were  more  bugs  under  one  pot  than  she 
could  possibly  carry  at  one  time,  and  she  was  in  great 
trouble  to  know  what  to  do  about  it.  She  swallowed 
as  many  as  she  wanted  herself,  and  then  she  began 
cramming  her  mouth  full  for  the  babies.  The  bugs 
looked  so  tempting,  and  there  were  so  many,  she  did 
not  like  to  lose  any  of  them,  and  so  she  kept  on  picking 
them  up.  After  her  mouth  was  as  full  as  it  could  hold, 
the  bugs  kept  falling  out  at  the  sides  of  her  bill,  and  she 
would  pick  them  up  again  over  and  over  without  know- 
ing it,  until  we  scared  her  away  by  our  laughing. 

Some  birds,  as  we  have  said,  such  as  the  owls,  take 
their  food  whole.  Of  course,  bones,  hair,  and  feathers 
cannot  be  digested,  so  after  a  time  they  are  thrown  up 
in  the  shape  of  little  balls,  called  "castings,"  and  by 
examining  them  we  can  find  out  exactly  what  the  bird 
has  been  eating. 


44  OUE   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

Most  of  the  birds  we  are  acquainted  with  pick  their 
food  very  carefully,  and  eat  only  that  which  will  digest 
without  trouble.  You  can  see  them  hold  it  down  with 
one  foot,  looking  at  it  closely  to  be  quite  sure  that  it 
is  really  good  to  eat.  They  often  pull  it  to  shreds  and 
swallow  it  in  little  bits.  If  it  is  a  butterfly  dinner, 
the  wings  are  torn  off  and  sent  floating  to  the  ground. 
If  it  is  a  grasshopper  supper,  the  tough,  wiry  legs  of 
the  insect  are  thrown  away,  and  only  the  rich,  luscious 
breast  and  fat  thighs  are  eaten. 

In  California  we  have  the  pepper  tree,  which  is  all 
covered  with  clusters  of  red  berries.  Under  the  thin, 
red  skin  is  a  sweet,  soft  pulp  which  covers  the  seed. 
The  pulp  is  all  there  is  of  the  pepper  berry  which  the 
birds  can  digest.  But  this  is  a  very  sweet  morsel  in- 
deed, and  tourist  birds  come  a  long  distance  to  get  it. 

Robin  redbreasts,1  come  here  in  winter  to  eat  our 
pepper  berries,  and  then,  of  course,  they  disgorge  the 
hard  seeds,  which  they  cannot  possibly  digest,  just  as 
the  owls  do  the  bones  of  their  prey. 

We  think  the  mocking-birds  have  taught  the  robins 
to  do  this,  and  we  have  noticed  the  waxwings  2  doing 
the  same  thing. 

When  the  winter  tourist  birds  make  a  raid  on  our 
yards,  we  can  hear  the  tiny  pepper  seeds  fall  in  a 
shower  on  our  tin  roofs,  under  the  tall  trees,  and  the 
door-steps  will  be  covered.  Sometimes  the  seeds  come 
down  so  thick  and  fast  that  we  can  think  of  nothing 
1  Merula  migratoria  propinqua.  2  Ampelis  cedrorum. 


SEED-EATERS  AND  MEAT-EATERS.  45 

but  a  hail-storm.  The  pepper  berries  ripen  in  mid- 
winter, and  it  is  worth  one's  while  to  see  a  flock  of 
robins  and  waxwings  come  into  our  yard.  In  a  few 
days  almost  every  pepper  tree  has  been  robbed,  and 
nothing  is  left  us  but  the  brown  seeds. 

These,  and  other  birds  from  the  north  who  come  to 
pay  us  a  visit  in  winter,  are  tamer  than  they  are  at 
home.  They  seem  to  think  that  we  are  on  our  honor 
to  be  polite  to  strangers,  and  so  we  are. 

If  you  watch  closely,  wherever  you  live,  at  some  time 
in  the  year  you  will  see  visiting  birds  in  your  yard  and 
you  ought  to  be  polite  to  them. 


CHAPTER   X. 

SEED-EATERS  AND  MEAT-EATERS. 

IF  we  wish  to  keep  one  of  the  wild  birds  in  a  cage, 
we  usually  select  one  of  the  seed-eaters.  These  birds 
are  gentle  and  are  readily  tamed.  Our  tame  canaries 
are  descended  from  the  wild  seed-eaters. 

Seed-eating  birds  make  us  think  of  some  nations  of 
men  who  live  on  rice  or  fruit.  Those  who  have  been 
among  these  people  tell  us  that  they  are  gentle  and 
kind  and  ready  to  learn. 

Many  birds  are  very  fond  of  spiders.  It  is  said  that 
spiders  are  a  kind  of  "bird  medicine,"  and  that  some 
birds  could  not  live  without  them.  This  seems  rather 


46 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


hard  for  the  spiders,  but  sometimes  they  pay  the  birds 
back.  There  is  said  to  be  a  spider  in  a  certain  part  of 
the  world  which  is  so  large  and  strong  that  it  eats 


CHIMNEY  SWIFT. 


birds.  It  lies  in  wait  and  catches  small,  weak  birds 
as  if  they  were  so  many  flies.  This  seems  very  cruel, 
because  we  love  the  birds  so  much.  But  we  might 
learn  to  love  the  spiders  just  as  well,  if  we  should  get 
better  acquainted  with  them. 


SEED-EATERS  AND  MEAT-EATERS. 


47 


When  you  are  outdoors  just  after  sundown,  you  will 
sometimes  see  a  great  many  swifts  and  swallows  in  the 
air,  darting  around  in  great  circles.  They  do  not  seem 
to  be  going  anywhere  or  doing  anything  in  particular. 
But  you  will  find  that  they  really  have  something  very 
important  on  hand.  They  are  eating  their  late  suppers. 

There  -are  tiny  insects  high  up  where  the  birds  are 
flying,  whole  swarms  of  them,  and  these  make  a  deli- 
cious supper  for  the  hungry  birds. 


ARKANSAS  GOLDFINCH. 

The  finches,  or  wild  canaries,1  as  we  call  them  in 
Southern  California,  are  among  our  commonest  birds. 
These  birds  shell  plant-seeds  before  swallowing  them, 
as  one  can  see  by  watching  flocks  of  them  in  the  sun- 

1  Spinus  psaltria  and  Spinus  tristis. 


48  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

flower  patches.  We  have  thrown  hard  crumbs  out  to 
them  in  the  yard,  and  they  have  been  seen  to  crack 
these  crumbs  all  to  pieces,  thinking  of  course  that  there 
must  be  a  shell. 

The  birds  do  not  crack  or  break  their  teeth  or  beaks, 
be  the  seeds  ever  so  hard,  as  a  child  would  be  very 
likely  to  do  on  a  walnut.  Every  bird  carries  a  nut- 
cracker about  with  him  wherever  he  goes.  If  a  finch 
gets  hold  of  a  very  tough,  hard  seed,  he  slips  it  far 
back  in  the  beak,  where  the  angle  of  the  jaw  gives 
better  strength  or  force.  He  can  then  break  it  easily, 
as  you  would  crack  the  hardest  nut  by  placing  it  close 
to  the  hinge  of  the  nutcracker. 

If  the  seed  is  tender  or  brittle,  the  bird  pushes  it  to 
the  point  of  his  beak  with  his  tongue  and  presses  on  it. 
Out  drops  the  seed-cover  to  the  ground,  leaving  the 
meat  in  the  bird's  bill. 

Our  tame  canary  has  an  original  way  of  preparing 
his  food.  We  give  him  cookie  or  bread,  and  he  breaks 
off  bits  and  carries  them  to  his  water  dish,  into  which 
he  drops  them.  After  they  have  soaked  a  little  while, 
he  goes  back  and  picks  them  out  and  eats  them.  Now 
his  teeth  are  not  at  all  poor,  for  he  cracks  his  canary 
seeds  without  any  trouble.  We  think  he  likes  a  little 
mush  for  a  change,  and  so  he  makes  it  for  himself. 

One  sometimes  wonders  why  our  garden  birds  do  not 
store  away  food  when  it  is  plentiful,  as  squirrels  do. 
There  are  ever  so  many  nice  hiding-places  all  about. 
Some  wild  birds  do  hide  their  food,  thus  "laying  up 


SEED-EATERS  AND  MEAT-EATERS.  49 

something  for  a  rainy  day,"  which  we  think  is  about 
the  right  thing  for  birds  and  other  people  to  do. 

One  reason  why  our  civilized  birds  do  not  store  their 
food  is  that  a  supply  of  one  kind  or  another  is  almost 
always  to  be  found.  Besides,  many  of  our  birds  travel 
about  so  much,  always  going  where  food  is,  that  there 
is  no  need  of  storing  it. 

The  seed-eaters  do  not  travel  much,  as  seeds  may 
always  be  found,  in  winter  as  well  as  in  summer. 
Birds  that  depend  for  food  upon  insect  life  must  go  in 
search  of  it  as  the  seasons  change. 

One  sometimes  thinks  the  birds  do  little  else  but 
think  about  meal-time.  A  singer  will  sometimes 
"make  believe"  forget,  while  he  sits  on  his  swaying 
branch,  pouring  out  his  throat  full  of  melody,  as  if  he 
did  not  care  if  he  never  tasted  food  again.  But  sud- 
denly, without  a  hint,  there  is  a  stop  in  the  music  that 
doesn't  belong  just  there,  and  the  bird  darts  to  the 
ground.  He  swallows  a  worm  or  a  blue- jacketed  fly, 
and  then  back  he  goes  to  his  perch  and  his  song,  as  if 
he  had  not  been  interrupted  at  all. 

We  do  not  think  it  is  the  worst  fate  in  the  world  to 
be  eaten  by  a  bird  and  made  into  song  arid  chirp  and 
flutter.  We  owe  a  good  deal  to  the  insects,  which  the 
birds  we  love  so  much  could  not  do  without.  We 
ought  to  think  of  this  and  not  step  on  a  bug  or  worm 
in  the  path. 

Some  heartless  people  think  it  is  a  great  treat  to 
have  a  pot-pie  made  of  as  many  little  birds  as  they  can 


50  OUR   FEATHERED   FKIEXDS. 

get  by  paying  for  them  or  shooting  them, —  birds  so 
small  that  it  takes  a  whole  one  to  make  a  good  mouth- 
ful. 

We  do  not  think  it  wrong  to  have  a  chicken  dinner, 
or  even  a  quail  or  pigeon,  if  we  are  sick;  because  it 
takes  only  a  bird  or  two  to  make  enough.  But  we  do 
think  it  is  wrong  to  take  many  happy  lives  just  to  give 
one  person  a  dinner,  when  he  could  make  as  good  a 
meal  on  beefsteak  as  on  a  dozen  little  birds. 

Birds  have  so  many  enemies  that  they  hardly  ever 
die  of  old  age.  We  ought  to  think  of  this,  and  do 
what  we  can  to  prolong  their  lives.  There  is  hardly  a 
spot  on  earth  so  desolate  that  birds  are  not  found  there. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

SOME  BIRDS   WITH   A    BAD   NAME. 

A  GOOD  name  is  what  we  all  want  in  this  world. 
We  like  to  have  people  speak  well  of  us  behind  our 
backs.  There  are  a  few  birds  which  have  a  bad  name. 
Sometimes  they  deserve  what  is  said  of  them,  and  some- 
times they  are  quite  innocent.  It  is  always  well  for 
us  to  find  out  for  ourselves  if  what  we  hear  about  birds 
is  quite  true. 

There  is  a  king-bird  or  bee-martin.  Farmers  think 
him  a  very  wicked  little  fellow,  catching  the  bees  on 
the  wing  and  eating  greedily  whole  swarms  of  them. 


SOME  BIRDS    WITH  A   BAD   NAME. 


51 


Mr.  Farmer  has  not  yet  found  out  everything  about  the 
bee-martin,  or  he  would  know  that  he  eats  a  good  many 
enemies  of  the  bees,  even  if  he  does  swallow  a  few  of 
the  bees  themselves. 


KlNG-BlRD. 


We  once  saw  these  birds  around  our  beehive  and 
felt  certain  that  they  were  eating  the  bees.  They 
would  dart  close  to  the  hives,  snapping  their  bills  and 
looking  very  savage.  But  we  were  willing  to  watch  a 
long  while,  that  we  might  be  certain  if  we  were  not 
mistaken,  and  we  did  just  right. 

There  was  some  tall  grass  near  the  hives,  and  we 


52  OUR  FEATHERED  Fit  TENDS. 

noticed  swarms  of  strange  looking  black-arid-blue  flies 
all  over  the  grass.  We  saw  these  flies  dart  out  to  the 
front  of  the  hive  and  kill  the  bees  faster  than  the  birds 
could  have  done  it. 

Waiting  a  little  longer,  we  found  that  the  birds  were 
on  the  watch  for  these  flies,  and  it  was  these  they  were 
catching  instead  of  the  bees  at  that  particular  time. 

A  certain  naturalist,  who  has  spent  a  good  deal  of 
time  trying  to  find  out  if  the  bee-birds  do  really  kill 
bees,  has  told  us  a  little  secret,  which  is  very  interest- 
ing and  may  lead  some  other  people  to  investigate  the 
matter.  He  says  that  he  has  never  found  a  worker-bee 
in  the  stomach  of  a  bee-bird,  though  he  has  examined 
a  great  many  of  them.  He  has  found  only  drones, 
which  the  worker  bees  are  very  glad  to  get  rid  of  and 
often  kill,  because  they  are  lazy  and  eat  honey  without 
gathering  any  for  winter. 

Perhaps  one  reason  why  the  bee-bird  prefers  the 
drone  to  the  worker  is  because  the  drones  have  no 
stings. 

By  all  this  you  see  that  it  pays  us  to  take  some 
trouble  to  find  out  all  the  good  there  is  about  anybody. 

However,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  king-birds  do 
eat  bees,  when  they  can  find  nothing  they  like  better. 
We  have  often  wondered  what  they  do  with  so  many 
stings,  and  why  they  are  not  poisoned  by  them.  We 
have  not  examined  a  king-bird's  throat  to  find  out  this 
secret,  but  a  friend  of  ours  did  look  at  the  throat  of  a 
toad  which  persisted  in  eating  his  bees  on  warm  summer 


SOME  BIRDS    WITH  A   BAD   NAME.  58 

evenings.  This  man  found  a  good  many  stings  on  the 
side  of  the  toad's  throat,  which  had  caught  there  when 
he  swallowed  the  bees.  Stings  are  probably  not  poison- 
ous to  toads  and  bee-birds. 

Hardly  anybody  speaks  a  good  word  for  the  butcher- 
bird or  shrike.1     Yet  this   bird  is  not  half  so  bad  as 


LOGGERHEAD  SHRIKE. 

most  people  think  he  is.  It  is  true  that  he  has  been 
caught  a  few  times  in  doing  very  naughty  things,  such 
as  making  a  dinner  on  a  small  chicken,  or  on  birds 
weaker  than  himself. 

But  his  most  common  food  consists  of  insects,  espe- 
1  Laniusludovicianus. 


54  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

cially  Jerusalem  crickets.  This  great  yellow  cricket 
is  an  inch  or  two  inches  long,  and  he  looks  as  bad  as 
he  is  reported  to  be,  for  he  wears  a  suit  of  clothes  with 
brown  and  yellow  stripes,  running  around,  instead  of 
up  and  down  in  the  usual  way  for  stripes.  This  makes 
one  think  of  a  convict  or  a  convict's  suit  of  clothes. 

Now  the  shrike,  or  butcher-bird,  does  us  a  great 
favor  by  making  as  many  meals  as  he  can  of  these 
great  crickets.  These  crickets  are  the  fellows  that  dig 
holes  in  our  potatoes  while  they  are  in  the  ground  and 
bite  the  roots  off  from  our  pansies  and  other  plants. 
The  butcher-bird  also  eats  grasshoppers  and  beetles, 
and  other  enemies  to  our  roots  and  grains.  So  we  see 
that  he  is  more  our  friend  than  our  enemy. 

This  bird,  which  we  have  all  learned  to  despise  so 
much,  could  teach  us  a  good  lesson  in  his  line  of  work, 
for  he  is  a  very  merciful  and  kind  butcher.  He  is  in 
the  habit  of  killing  his  victim  quickly,  and  does  not 
hang  it  up  alive  on  a  thorn,  as  some  people  think  he 
does.  He  probably  fastens  his  dinner  in  that  way  that 
he  may  pull  it  to  pieces  easier  and  know  where  to  find 
it  when  he  is  hungry  again. 

The  English  sparrow l  is  another  bird  that  has  a  bad 
name,  and  he  deserves  what  is  said  of  him  more  than 
some  of  the  other  birds.  He  is  quarrelsome  and  selfish 
and  very  unlovable.  But  in  spite  of  this  we  have 
sometimes  put  him  to  a  good  use,  and  have  grown  to 

1  Passer  domesticus,  introduced  into  the  United  States  from  Eu- 
rope. 


SOME  BIRDS    WITH  A   BAD  NAME. 


55 


look  upon  the  little  tyrant  as  quite  capable  of  adding 
to  the  comfort  of  our  families. 

Once  there  was  a  sick  child  in  our  family,  and  we 
happened  to  think  that  the  sparrow  would  make  a  good 
supper  for  our  little  invalid.  The  birds  were  "small 
fry,"  to  be  sure,  but  we  cooked  them,  and  they  were 
good  eating. 

Then  we  gathered  all  the  sparrows'  eggs  we  could 
reach  every  morning,  and  cooked  them.  They  were 


W-E-G 


ENGLISH  SPARROW. 


delicious.  We  felt  that  it  was  not  wrong  for  us  to 
take  a  good  many  of  these  eggs,  for  there  were  count- 
less more. 

We  found  that  we  could  tempt  the  hen  birds  to  lay 
their  eggs  close  to  the  door,  by  placing  hay  above  the 
sills  and  around  the  window  corners,  just  as  you  would 
make  a  hen's  nest  for  Mistress  Biddy. 

This  disposition  of  the  English  sparrow  to  become 
domesticated,  like  our  hens,  once  came  near  making 


56  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

trouble  in  money  matters.  Captain  R.  H.  Pratt,  of 
the  Carlisle  Indian  School,  noting  that  the  sparrows 
were  driving  all  the  other  birds  away  from  the  school 
grounds,  offered  a  penny  a  set  for  all  the  eggs  which 
should  be  brought  to  him. 

The  little  Indian  students,  two  hundred  or  more  of 
them,  made  a  raid  on  the  grounds,  and  brought  so 
many  eggs  to  the  captain  that  he  began  to  think  he 
should  have  no  money  left.  He  thought,  "  Surely  there 
cannot  be  so  many  nests  as  there  are  sets  of  eggs."  So 
he  set  himself  to  work  to  find  out  the  secret. 

It  had  not  taken  the  boys  long  to  learn  that  Mrs. 
Sparrow  would  lay  right  along,  just  like  a  hen,  if  the 
nest  itself  were  not  destroyed.  The  eggs  were  taken 
out  cautiously  as  often  as  four  or  five  were  laid,  and 
the  industrious  little  Indian  claimed  his  reward.  It 
was  a  good  scheme  at  money-making,  but  the  alert 
superintendent  soon  found  it  out,  and  of  course  took 
back  his  offer.  There  was  no  more  bounty  given  for 
sparrows'  eggs  that  summer. 

California  farmers  complain  a  good  deal  about  the 
linnets.1  One  man  whom  we  know  spent  whole  days 
in  March  killing  the  linnets,  because  he  thought  they 
were  eating  up  his  peach  buds.  .  In  late  summer  we 
went  over  to  see  him,  and  what  do  you  think  he  was 
doing?  We  found  him  pulling  off  half  of  the  little 
peaches  and  throwing  them  on  the  ground. 

"Good  morning,  sir,"  we  said,  stopping  at  the 
1  Housefinch,  Carpodacus  mexicanus  frontalis. 


BEFORE  BREAKFAST.  57 

street  along  the  edge  of  the  field.  "  What  are  you 
doing?  " 

He  looked  up  and  answered,  "  Oh,  I  am  thinning  out 
the  peaches.  They  are  too  thick  on  the  boughs,  and 
they  will  grow  larger  if  there  are  only  half  as  many 
left.  We  always  have  to  thin  them  out  in  this  way 
before  fall." 

"But,  sir,"  we  said,  "don't  you  think  it  would  have 
saved  you  some  trouble  if  you  had  let  the  linnets  thin 
the  peaches  for  you  in  the  spring?  They  would  have 
eaten  more  insects  than  peaches,  too,  and  not  have 
charged  you  a  dollar  for  all  their  work." 

The  man  looked  surprised  and  scratched  his  head  in 
a  sorry  sort  of  way.  Then  he  said,  "Why,  I  never 
thought  of  that.  I  was  told  that  the  linnets  do  a  great 
deal  of  damage.  I  will  get  them  to  take  care  of  my 
peach  orchard  next  year.  I  am  sorry  I  made  such  a 
mistake." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

BEFORE   BREAKFAST. 

"RiNG  the  breakfast  bell,"  cried  Madam  Towhee, 
"the  sun  is  nearly  up.  Rap  on  your  tree,  Mr.  Flicker, 
and  wake  up  the  linnets." 

"You  are  late  yourself,  Mrs.  Towhee,"  said  Mrs. 
Linnet;  "  my  children  have  had  their  breakfast  already." 


58 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


Mr.  Flicker  opened  his  sharp  eyes  and  admired  his 
sharp  tail  shafts.  Then  he  peeped  from  behind  his 
tree  and  called  out,  "Mr.  Mocker  kept  me  awake  an 
hour  in  the  night  serenading  young  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Sparrow.  That  is  why  I  slept  so  late." 


BROWN  TOWHEE. 

Mr.  Mocker,  in  the  top  of  his  house,  rang  the  break- 
fast bell.  It  sounded  like  the  linnet  and  the  towhee 
and  the  flicker  and  the  robin  all  together.  The  mocker 
laughed,  too,  like  a  dozen  birds,  keeping  his  clapper 
going  until  the  other  people  in  the  yard  could  scarcely 
hear  their  own  voices. 


BEFORE  BREAKFAST.  59 

Up  jumped  little  Mrs.  Humming-bird  and  snatched  a 
dewdrop  from  the  cup  of  a  morning-glory  on  the 
trellis.  "I  prefer  to  drink  distilled  water, "she  said, 
wiping  her  mouth. 

"I  like  to  drink  from  the  hydrant,"  said  Madam 
Linnet.  "Any  water  is  good  enough  forme."  Then 
she  tilted  herself  on  the  top  of  the  hydrant  and  swal- 
lowed three  drops  as  they  fell  from  the  pipe. 

"  What  makes  you  always  turn  a  somersault  on  the 
top  of  the  hydrant?"  asked  Mrs.  Towhee.  "It  doesn't 
look  polite  to  stoop  over  like  that,  and  drink  with  your 
head  down." 

"I  don't  drink  with  my  mouth  on  the  edge  of  the 
cup,  like  some  people  I  know,"  she  said  in  reply  to  Mrs. 
Towhee.  "Besides,  it  doesn't  wet  my  face  when  the 
drops  fall  right  into  my  mouth  like  this.  I  like  to  turn 
upside  down,  too;  it  is  good  exercise  for  the  muscles. 
What's  the  use  of  a  bird  always  being  so  proper?" 

"Tut,  tut!"  said  Mrs.  Sparrow,  "see  how  I  drink." 
And  she  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  puddle  under  the 
hydrant,  and  laid  her  breast  in  the  water,  and  drank, 
and  drank,  wetting  her  face  and  throat  all  over.  "I'm 
not  afraid  of  a  wetting,"  she  said. 

"What's  all  this  talk  about  drinking?"  asked  old 
Mr.  Butcher-bird,  coming  down  on  the  party  with  a 
swoop  of  his  wings  that  scared  all  the  other  birds  back 
to  the  trees.  "Don't  run  away,"  he  said  kindly. 
"I've  had  my  breakfast."  Then  he  began  to  pull  tat- 
ters of  lizard  meat  out  of  his  bill. 


60  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

'"Where  do  you  suppose  I  got  that  lizard?"  he  asked 
of  a  goldfinch. 

"I  have  no  idea,"  she  answered.  "I  never  saw  a 
lizard  up  in  the  morning  so  early  as  this.  Lizards  are 
'sun  birds  '  and  don't  like  cold,  wet  grass." 

"Ha,  ha! "  laughed  the  butcher.  "I  caught  him  yes- 
terday asleep,  and  killed  him,  and  pinned  him  on  a 
thorn.  I  always  get  my  breakfast  ready  over  night." 

"I  wish  I  had  some  wine  to  drink,"  observed  Mr. 
Oriole,  sadly.  "  The  doctor  says  I  ought  to  drink  wine, 
I  feel  so  weak." 

"What  do  you  know  about  wine?"  asked  old  Mr. 
Warbler,  hopping  along  where  the  birds  were  talking. 
"  I  tasted  some  wine  once  from  a  broken  bottle  at  the 
back  door  of  a  dram-shop,  and  it  made  me  so  dizzy  I 
couldn't  fly.  I  had  to  stay  on  the  shed  roof  all  the 
morning,  feeling  so  foolish,  and  expecting  to  be  caught 
by  a  cat  any  minute.  I  wouldn't  drink  wine." 

"I  would,  whole  bottles  of  it,"  declared  Mr.  Oriole, 
laughing  till  he  almost  cried.  Then  all  the  frightened 
birds  came  back  to  the  hydrant. 

"Too  bad!  too  bad!"  cried  the  warbler,  wiping  his 
eyes.  "Young  man,  you  will  be  sorry.  I  wouldn't 
have  anything  to  do  with  a  doctor  who  advised  a  young 
man  to  drink  wine  because  he  felt  weak.  Better  go 
out  in  the  field  to  work." 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  oriole  again,  amused  at  his 
own  joke.  "See  me  tap  my  wine  bottles."  Then  he 
flew  to  the  berry  patch  and  sipped  the  red  juice  of  the 


BEFORE  BREAKFAST.  61 

ripe  raspberries,  until  his  mouth  and  downy  moustache 
were  all  stained,  the  little  winebibber. 

"A  pretty  drinker  you  are,"  said  the  mocker;  "give 
us  a  treat." 

Then  all  the  other  birds  fell  to  tapping  the  berry 
bottles,  till  a  lady  came  out  of  the  house  and  cried, 
"Shoo!"  flirting  her  gingham  apron  at  them  and  rat- 
tling her  tin  pail  against  the  sunflower  stalks  in  a  way 
that  made  the  birds  know  she  was  in  earnest.  Then 
the  lady  began  filling  her  pail,  while  the  birds  watched 
her  from  behind  the  leaves. 

"  Keep  still,"  said  Mr.  Robin  ;  "she'll  never  see  them 
all.  There'll  be  plenty  left.  There  are  always  more 
under  the  leaves.  Let's  go  off  to  the  strawberry  bed." 

So  the  birds  flew  off  to  the  strawberry  bed  on  the 
other  side  of  the  garden,  and  picked  the  ripe  red  side 
out  of  ever  so  many  of  the  berries.  Then  a  man  came 
out  of  the  house  and  cried,  "Shoo!"  just  as  the  lady 
had  done.  But  he  did  not  begin  to  pick  the  berries. 
He  stuck  a  great  ugly  scarecrow  up  in  the  middle  of 
the  strawberry  bed,  and  laughed  to  himself  as  he 
thought  how  scared  the  birds  would  be  when  they 
saw  it. 

But  the  birds,  sitting  in  the  trees,  laughed  too,  and 
gay  old  Mr.  Mocker  said,  "He  can't  deceive  us.  We 
know  a  scarecrow  from. a  man  any  day." 

As  soon  as  the  man's  back  was  turned,  the  birds 
came  down  and  chattered  in  the  scarecrow's  face,  and 
sat  on  the  rim  of  his  hat,  and  wiped  their  bills  on  his 


62  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

coat  sleeve,  and  made  themselves  very  well  acquainted 
with  him.  All  the  while  the  man  in  the  house  was 
saying  to  his  daughter,  "I  guess  those  birds  will  let 
my  strawberries  alone  now." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

OUR   BIRDS'    RESTAURANT.  —  MEALS    AT   ALL   HOURS. 

ONE  day  in  the  middle  of  winter  some  one  suggested 
that  we  set  up  a  "  Birds'  Restaurant "  out  on  the  lawn. 
It  was  such  a  funny  idea  that  we  had  to  laugh.  After 
we  were  done  laughing,  we  went  to  work,  while  the 
birds  watched  us,  as  they  always  do,  expecting  some 
surprise. 

We  set  a  rustic  table  under  a  tree  by  the  summer- 
house.  Then  came  the  question,  "What  shall  we  put 
on  it?  "  We  imagined  the  birds  all  about  were  making 
remarks,  and  suggesting  in  an  undertone,  "Just  what 
you  eat,  if  you  please."  We  remembered  that  the  birds 
in  our  yard  are  civilized  birds,  and  so  of  course  we  gave 
them  civilized  food. 

If  you  are  not  well  acquainted  with  the  birds,  we 
suppose  you  will  be  amused  at  our  mention  of  bread 
and  butter.  But  the  birds  make  food  a  "matter  of 
taste,"  like  other  people.  They  have  learned  to  like 
the  flavor  of  things  they  never  dreamed  of  eating  when 
they  were  wild,  just  as  some  races  of  men  leave  off 


OUR  BIRDS'   RESTAURANT.  63 

eating  raw  flesh  and  eat  cooked  foods  when  they  have 
been  to  school  a  while. 

We  rolled  some  cracker  crumbs  very  fine.  Then  we 
crumbled  a  couple  of  seed  cookies,  and  chopped  some 
walnuts  into  bits.  Then  we  put  some  stewed  black- 
berries in  a  saucer,  and  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter  on  a 
plate. 

This  seemed  to  us  like  a  pretty  "square  meal"  for 
February  birds,  and  we  stood  back  and  smiled  at  the 
spread.  Some  people  passing  in  the  street  smiled  too, 
and  asked  if  we  were  having  "a  picnic,  such  weather." 
And  we  were  sure  we  heard  the  birds  twittering.  Of 
course  chairs  at  our  restaurant  were  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, things  were  gotten  up  in  such  a  hurry,  owing  to 
the  "hard  times  "  among  the  birds. 

We  stood  behind  a  hedge  and  watched  to  see  if  com- 
pany would  come.  We  were  not  disappointed.  First 
a  pair  of  brown  towhees  1  hopped  along  and  up  to  the 
edge  of  the  table.  They  did  not  even  look  for  chairs, 
but  went  straight  for  the  blackberries,  pecking  away  at 
the  sweet  morsels  until  they  were  all  gone,  and  then 
looking  as  if  they  could  have  taken  more. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Towhee,"  we  said,  "you  had  better  put 
up  a  few  cans  of  blackberries  for  yourself  next  summer, 
if  you  think  they  are  so  nice."  She  made  no  answer, 
but  looked  as  if  she  expected  us  to  put  up  enough  for 
ourselves  and  her  too. 

Then  along  came  the  sparrows.2  They  took  the 
.  l  Pipilo  fuscus  senicula.  'z  Melospiza  fasciata  heermanni. 


64 


OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


bread  and  butter  and  cracker  crumbs.  They  actually 
picked  the  butter  from  the  bread,  just  as  all  children 
do  who  are  very  fond  of  butter,  feeling  sure  of  another 
"spread"  when  that  is  gone.  In  less  than  an  hour 


SONO  SPAKROW. 

that  table  was  cleared  of  every  bit  of  food.  The  lin- 
nets took  the  walnuts  and  what  was  left  of  the  cookies. 
Our  birds'  restaurant  was  a  success.  If  we  could 
have  charged  them  the  regular  price  for  their  meals, 
we  should  have  made  money  at  the  business.  But 
though  we  knew  that  they  had  pockets,  we  had  never 


OUR   BIRDS'   RESTAURANT.  65 

heard  of  their  carrying  money  about  with  them,  and  so 
we  said  nothing  about  it. 

All  we  ever  received  from  our  little  guests  by  way 
of  payment  was  song  and  twitter  and  pleasant  company 
in  the  cold,  sad  part  of  the  year,  but  we  thought  that 
was  good  pay. 

We  set  the  table  over  and  over  again  during  the  cold 
spell,  watching  from  the  windows  when  it  rained.  The 
birds  cared  little  if  the  crumbs  were  wet.  Every  winter 
since  then  we  have  remembered  to  do  the  same  thing; 
and  even  in  summer,  especially  in  nesting  time,  we 
do  not  forget  the  restaurant. 

We  usually  set  the  table  at  night,  the  last  thing 
before  going  to  bed,  as  some  careful  and  busy  house- 
wives do,  and  you  should  hear  and  see  the  fun  at  sun- 
rise. The  table  will  be  all  covered  with  birds  of  every 
size  and  color  living  near,  and  they  are  as  good-natured 
as  can  be.  Food  by  the  saucerful  disappears  in  almost 
a  twinkling,  and  the  birds  surround  the  empty  board 
when  they  are  done,  tamer  than  ever,  and  asking  in 
coaxing  tones  for  "more." 

There  have  come  to  be  more  birds  in  that  corner  of 
the  yard  than  anywhere  else,  just  as  you  see  a  street 
thronged  at  meal-time  about  a  popular  eating-house  in 
the  city.  We  have  learned  a  great  deal  about  the 
tastes  of  different  birds.  Some  of  them  have  a  "sweet 
tooth  "  as  truly  as  any  child,  for  they  alwa}'S  choose  the 
cookies  or  gingerbread. 

One  day  we  thought  we  would  see  how  far  they  really 


66  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

were  civilized  in  the  matter  of  diet,  and  so  we  laid  a 
mutton  bone  on  the  table.  It  was  a  bone  that  had  been 
cooked,  and  had  just  a  suspicion  of  meat  on  it  left 
from  our  own  dinner. 

Along  came  the  birds,  of  course,  for  they  were  always 
watching  us,  canting  their  heads  to  get  a  good  look  at 
the  strange  object.  "What  do  you  suppose  it  is?" 
they  seemed  to  be  asking  each  other.  "  Do  you  think 
it  is  safe  to  taste  ?  " 

But  they  seemed  to  remember  that  we  never  played 
a  joke  on  them  when  they  were  hungry,  and  in  a  little 
while  a  sparrow  pecked  daintily  at  the  bone.  After 
this  they  all  fell  to  eating  the  meat  as  fast  as  they 
could. 

That  was  not  the  last  bone  that  found  its  way  to  the 
birds'  restaurant.  Now  we  put  the  bones  all  about 
in  the  apple  trees,  or  swing  them  on  a  string  from  the 
branches.  It  is  great  fun.  If  you  can  spare  a  large 
beef  bone  that  has  some  marrow  in  it,  just  offer  it  to 
the  birds  in  some  quiet  place.  The  first  bird  that  gets 
to  it  will  put  his  head  in  at  the  round  tunnel  in  the 
middle  of  the  bone,  where  the  marrow  is  hidden,  and 
you  can  come  pretty  near  putting  "salt  on  his  tail" 
without  his  knowing  what  you  are  about. 

You  have  all  read  that  queer  song  Mother  Goose 
made  about  the  "blackbird  pie."  But  that  was  a 
pleasant  joke.  The  birds  were  never  baked  at  all. 
They  were  put  under  the  crust  alive  and  well,  just  to 
surprise  a  great  dinner  party.  It  was  only  for  orna- 


OUR  BIRDS*    RESTAURANT.  67 

ment,  as  we  put  flowers  in  a  vase  and  set  them  on  the 
table.  Shut  up  in  the  dark,  in  a  great  earthen  pot, 
with  just  enough  air  for  breathing  coming  in  at  the 
small  holes  pricked  in  the  crust,  it  was  no  wonder  the 
"birds  began  to  sing"  when  the  cover  was  lifted.  Of 
course  the}7  all  began  to  fly  around  the  room,  they  were 
so  glad  to  be  free  once  more  and  to  find  that  they  were 
not  "baked  in  a  pie  "  at  all. 

It  was  a  merry  surprise  for  a  great  dinner  party,  and 
quite  satisfactory,  since  there  was  plenty  of  food  to  eat 
besides  blackbird  pie.  We  never  look  at  a  field  of 
blackbirds  without  thinking  of  the  old  rlryme  and  stop- 
ping to  count  the  birds,  just  to  see  if  there  are  exactly 
"twenty-four." 

Here  is  a  bit  of  rhyme  in  imitation  of  Mother  Goose, 
which  we  fancy  will  fit  very  well  when  birds  are  bigger 
than  boys  and  have  pot-pie  for  dinner. 

Sing  a  song  o'  sixpence ; 

A  pocket  full  o'  rye, 
Four  and  twenty  little  boys 

Baked  in  a  pie. 
-v      When  the  pie  was  opened 

The  boys  began  to  sing ; 
Wasn't  that  a  dainty  dish 

To  set  before  a  king  ? 


68  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

UMBRELLAS    AND    OTHER   THINGS. 

THERE  is  more  fun  than  you  can  imagine  in  watch- 
ing the  birds  in  your  yard  for  just  one  single  day.  If 
you  are  a  sick  child  and  cannot  go  to  school,  the  day 
will  never  seem  long  when  once  you  have  begun  to  get 
acquainted  with  these  dear  little  people.  .  If  you  look 
a  bird  straight  in  the  eye  when  you  have  a  chance  to 
hold  one  in  your  hand,  you  cannot  hurt  him  if  you  have 
a  bit  of  a  kind  heart  in  your  jacket. 

Birds'  faces  are  sweet  and  happy  and  beautiful,  even 
if  they  are  covered  with  feathers.  You  will  notice 
that  they  have  different  expressions  at  different  times. 
But  a  bird's  eye,  whether  it  is  black,  or  red,  or  white, 
will  tell  the  story  of  its  fear  or  happiness  as  plainly  as 
your  own.  You  may  wonder  how  that  can  be,  when 
there  are  no  wrinkles  to  be  seen  about  the  face. 

We  have  seen  birds  do  a  great  many  bright  things, 
and  we  have  seen  them  do  stupid  things  as  well. 
There  are  wide  cracks  in  our  woodshed,  and  the  towhees 
go  through  these  cracks  to  the  inside  in  search  of  some- 
thing to  eat,  or  just  out  of  curiosity. 

When  we  open  the  shed  door  suddenly,  the  birds  are 
in  a  great  fright.  They  seem  to  have  forgotten  just 
where  they  came  in,  and  they  flutter  about  to  all  the 
cracks,  trying  to  squeeze  their  way  through,  until  they 


UMBRELLAS  AND    OTHER    THINGS.  69 

find  the  right  one.  They  do  this  almost  every  day, 
never  learning  to  count  or  to  mark  the  crack  in  any 
way.  This  is  very  stupid  of  the  towhees,  and  we  laugh 
at  their  shrill  squeaks,  and  their  silly  way  of  trying 
every  hole  without  regard  to  their  size. 

These  towhees  are  full  of  curiosity.  There  is  a  rab- 
bit's cage  in  the  yard,  and  the  birds  try  all  day  to  get 
in.  Sometimes  we  leave  the  door  ajar,  and  in  they  hop. 
Then  what  a  time.  Squealing  and  fluttering,  they  fly 
about  as  if  they  were  scared  nearly  to  death.  We  let 
them  out  again,  and  they  will  hop  to  a  log  near  by 
and  preen  themselves,  and  in  five  minutes  they  have 
forgotten  what  happened.  Back  they  fly  to  the  cage 
again,  and  are  not  satisfied  till  they  find  a  way  to 
get  in. 

They  wait  coaxingly  about  the  door,  as  if  they  would 
give  anything  for  a  ticket  of  admission.  Once  a  curi- 
ous little  towhee  squeezed  itself  into  the  owl's  cage, 
and  Ave  had  hard  work  to  get  it  out  alive;  and  then 
what  should  the  stupid  little  thing  do  but  go  straight 
for  the  canary's  cage,  hanging  under  a  tree  on  the  lawn. 
If  we  want  to  hold  a  towhee  in  our  hands  for  any  reason, 
we  have  but  to  set  a  cage  on  the  grass  with  the  door 
open,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  have  the  bird. 

We  are  reminded  of  something  about  birds  which 
John  Webster  wrote  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago. 
He  must  have  been  a  bird  lover.  When  speaking  of 
a  summer  bird-cage  in  a  garden,  he  observed,  "  The 
birds  that  are  without,  despair  to  get  in ;  and  the  birds 


70  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

that  are  within,  despair  for  fear  they  will  never  get 
out." 

Did  you  ever  stand  at  the  window  when  it  is  raining 
and  wonder  what  the  birds  do  without  umbrellas?  Of 
course  you  have,  but  you  are  a  little  mistaken  if  you 
suppose  they  do  not  have  umbrellas  and  parasols. 
Their  umbrellas  are  all  about,  in  the  trees  and  fence 
corners  and  bushes,  just  where  they  are  needed. 

See  the  birds  cuddle  under  a  bunch  of  leaves  during 
a  smart  shower.  See  them  hunt  for  the  shadiest  places 
when  the  sun  shines  warm.  Of  course  they  do  not 
carry  their  umbrellas  about  with  them,  tucked  under 
their  arms,  but  they  fly  quickly  to  places  where  they 
are  sure  the  umbrellas  are  to  be  found. 

Once  in  February  a  humming-bird  built  her  frail 
little  nest  close  to  the  path  on  the  low  limb  of  a  tree 
in  our  yard.  Now  this  eucalyptus  tree  was  very  nearly 
a  hundred  feet  high,  and  we  wondered  that  the  bird 
built  so  near  the  ground,  when  she  might  have  been  so 
far  above.  We  liked  to  fancy  that  she  suspected  we 
would  not  harm  her,  and  that  we  might  possibly  help 
her  some  if  she  should  happen  to  be  in  trouble.  She 
was  right,  for  we  did  help  her  in  a  way  we  could  not 
have  done  had  she  built  her  nest  in  the  top  of  the  tree. 

A  fierce  hail  storm  came  down  from  the  mountains, 
and  we  knew  the  eggs  would  be  destroyed  if  we  did 
not  protect  them.  There  sat  the  tiny  mother  on  her 
frail  nest,  the  great  drops  of  water  running  off  from 
the  point  of  her  slender  bill  and  down  over  her  soft, 


UMBRELLA*   AND   OTHER    THINGS.  71 

small  sides.  We  felt  very  sorry,  but  you  know  that 
just  feeling  sorry  for  those  who  are  in  trouble  doesn't 
help  them  very  much.  So  we  went  to  the  attic  and 
found  an  old  sunshade  which  we  had  put  away  under 
the  rafters  at  the  close  of  the  summer.  We  thought  it 
would  be  just  the  thing,  and  so  it  was. 

We  tied  it  to  a  twig  just  above  the  hummer's  nest. 
The  mother  flew  off  just  for  a  moment,  but  came  right 
back.  Then  she  looked  at  the  black  roof  over  the  nest 
and  settled  down  on  her  eggs  quite  satisfied,  while  we 
stood  close  by  her,  wet  to  the  skin  in  the  rain  and 
sleet.  It  was  a  long  storm,  lasting  until  the  eggs  were 
hatched,  but  the  mother  was  safe,  and  the  baby  birds 
were  never  wet  at  all.  Since  then  we  have  looked  all 
about  the  yard  for  humming-birds'  nests  just  before  a 
storm,  that  we  might  shelter  them. 

You  have  noticed  that  there  are  different  birds  about 
your  yard  at  different  times  in  the  year.  Birds  are 
like  other  people,  they  like  to  travel  and  see  the  world. 
They  like  to  visit  their  friends  and  get  something  to 
eat  different  from  what  they  have  at  home. 

But  birds  are  very  sensible  people.  They  do  not 
pack  a  valise  or  a  great  trunkful  of  clothes  when  they 
go  on  a  long  journey.  They  have  one  good  travelling 
dress,  and  they  keep  that  tidy.  When  they  get  to  the 
end  of  their  trip,  they  do  not  have  to  annoy  their  friends 
with  baggage.  Probably  their  visit  is  all  the  more 
welcome.  And  their  visits  are  usually  short.  It  seems 
as  if  they  do  not  want  to  wear  out  their  welcome. 


72  OUR   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

Of  course  you  have  wondered  how  birds  travel,  never 
needing  a  street,  or  a  railroad  track,  or  a  bicycle,  or  a 
boat.  Perhaps  the  birds  wonder,  too,  how  it  is  that  we 
never  take  a  flight  up  into  the  blue  sky,  or  rest  our- 
selves in  the  trees,  always  keeping  on  the  ground  in 
the  grass  or  dust,  or  in  our  houses.  Perhaps  they 
puzzle  their  tiny  brains  to  know  how  it  is  that  we  can 
walk  so  far  without  getting  tired,  and  how  it  is  that 
we  are  obliged  to  climb  a  tree  on  all  fours,  like  a  bear 
or  a  squirrel,  if  we  wish  to  get  the  nuts  which  are  far 
up  out  of  reach. 

There  is  no  telling  what  the  birds  think  about  us. 
The  same  Great  One  who  made  the  birds  with  hollow 
bones  and  quills,  and  who  filled  many  little  cells  of 
their  bodies  with  air,  so  that  the  little  creatures  might 
be  light  of  weight  and  buoyant  to  fly,  also  made  us  of 
heavier  weight  and  greater  strength  of  muscle. 

The  birds  are  not  inventors,  but  man  has  invented 
the  steam-engine,  and  the  bicycle,  and  the  sail-boat,  so 
that  we  have  come  as  near  flying  as  we  possibly  can 
without  being  birds. 

Almost  every  boy  tries  to  fly,  and  he  thinks  there  is 
some  secret  about  it  which  he  can  find  out,  if  he  is  only 
patient  enough.  He  gets  up  on  a  high  fence,  and  he 
flaps  his  arms  for  wings,  and  he  plays  that  he  is  going 
to  fly  to  the  next  town.  The  birds,  looking  on,  must 
laugh  heartily. 

Perhaps  if  the  boy's  body  were  boat-shaped,  like  a 
bird's  body,  and  if  his  legs  were  put  midway  between 


CRADLE  MAKING.  73 

the  two  ends  of  his  body  like  a  bird's  legs,  the  boy 
would  come  nearer  flying.  But  more  than  all,  he  would 
need  a  good  strong  pair  of  wings.  We  have  never 
seen  a  boy  yet  who  had  wings  of  any  sort. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CRADLE  MAKING. 

THERE  is  a  good  deal  said  and  written  about  the  way 
birds  build  their  houses.  But,  really,  birds  do  not 
build  houses.  Their  houses  or  dwellings  are  built  for 
them  by  Mother  Nature,  and  are  the  trees  and  the 
bushes,  and  the  sheltering  rocks  and  the  caves,  and 
the  cornices  of  our  own  houses. 

What  birds  really  do  build  are  their  cradles, —  little 
crib  beds,  sometimes  with  rockers  and  sometimes  with- 
out. 

Birds  do  not  make  the  cradle  first  and  put  the  rockers 
on  afterwards,  as  a  cabinet-maker  would  do.  They  first 
choose  the  best  rockers  in  the  market,  and  then  make 
the  cradle  on  top  of  the  rockers.  Sometimes  they  do  a 
very  queer  thing;  they  find  the  rockers,  and  then  build 
the  cradle  under  them.  Birds  have  ways  of  their  own, 
and  they  are  very  good  ways,  as  you  shall  see. 

The  rockers  for  a  bird's  cradle  are  of  the  branches  of 
the  sycamore,  or  apple  or  orange  trees,  or  they  are  of 
t\vigs  of  the  elm  or  cypress,  or  banana  leaves.  Any 


74  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

strong,  firm  twig  or  branch  that  will  rock  and  tilt  in 
the  breeze,  makes  a  good  rocker  of  the  old-fashioned 

sort. 

"  Rock-a-bye  baby  on  the  tree  top, 
When  the  wind  blows  the  cradle  will  rock ; 
When  the  bough  breaks  the  cradle  will  fall, 
Down  comes  baby,  cradle  and  all." 

But  it  is  a  very  hard  wind  that  can  break  one  of 
these  rocker  boughs  or  blow  a  bird's  cradle  out  of  its 
place.  Sometimes  a  crib  is  blown  out  of  the  elbow  of 
a  tree,  because  the  nest  in  the  elbow  is  not  fastened  by 
string,  as  it  is  in  a  bough,  but  is  just  tucked  in  between 
the  great  branches. 

Birds  are  very  wise  and  select  their  boughs  with 
great  care.  Lithe,  yielding  branches  are  just  right  for 
rockers,  they  will  spring  and  swing  so  readily.  Some- 
times a  young  twig  and  a  strong  old  twig,  joined 
together,  make  a  pair  of  bird  rockers. 

A  cradle  of  this  kind  is  very  handy  for  the  mother 
bird.  The  wind  rocks  the  babies  to  sleep,  and  the 
leaves  sing  lullaby  songs,  while  the  mother  blinks 
away  on  the  nest  or  goes  off  in  search  of  food. 

Sometimes  the  mother  herself  sings  the  babies  to 
sleep,  sitting  in  the  cradle  with  them.  Some  of  the 
finches  twitter  a  low  musical  song  over  their  little  ones, 
and  we  have  often  found  their  nests  by  hearing  these 
soft,  sweet  notes.  One  must  listen  as  well  as  look,  to 
learn  these  pleasant  secrets. 

Some  mother  birds  do  not  approve  of  rockers  for  their 


CRADLE  MAKING. 


75 


babies.  These  are  very  sensible  mothers.  They  make 
their  cradles  in  the  firm,  still  crotch  of  a  tree,  high 
up  among  the  forked  branches,  or  lower,  right  in  the 
hollow  trunk.  Other  birds  choose  the  ground  or  low 
shrubs. 


BALTIMORE  ORIOLE. 


Some  cradles,  like  those  of  the  oriole  and  titmouse, 
are  curtained  all  around  with  beautiful  lace  fibre  or  lat- 
tice work.  Other  cribs  have  no  curtains  at  all  except 
drooping  leaves  and  waving  grass. 

Those  of  us  who  can  afford  them  have  eider-down 
quilts  on  our  beds.  But  these  are  rare  and  costly,  and 


76  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

not  many  people  have  them.  Birds  do  not  have  to 
think  about  the  cost  of  anything.  There  must  be 
downy  quilts  in  every  nursery.  These  crib  blankets 
are  always  on  hand.  Sometimes  they  are  soft  gray  or 
brown  in  color,  and  sometimes  they  are  "crazy  quilts." 
It  all  depends  upon  what  sort  of  a  breast  the  mother 
bird  has. 

At  first  thought  one  might  fear  that  such  a  quilt 
might  be  too  heavy.  You  see  the  old  bird  fly  to  the 
nest  and  settle  quickly  down  above  her  young,  as  if 
she  took  her  seat  right  on  their  frail  little  backs.  She 
does  not  take  the  trouble  to  explain  to  you  that  her 
feet  are  below  and  between  the  young  birds,  and  that 
she  lifts  her  feathers  gently.  She  is  really  a  very  fluffy 
"comfortable,"  soothing  and  warm,  covering  the  deli- 
cate birds,  or  the  still  more  delicate  eggs. 

Some  birds,  like  the  hummers,  build  their  cradles  of 
material  which  is  just  the  color  of  the  branch  or  the 
rockers  upon  which  they  rest.  We  have  seen  hum- 
mer's nests  on  orange  trees  covered  on  the  outside  with 
the  black  scales  which  are  so  frequent  on  these  trees. 
We  have  seen  them  on  the  S3^camore  trees  all  covered 
with  the  light  yellow  wool  which  grows  on  the  backs 
of  the  sycamore  leaves.  The  birds  do  this  that  the 
nests  may  look  like  a  part  of  the  branch  on  which  they 
rest.  In  this  way  these  shrewd  little  creatures  hope 
to  deceive  the  shrikes  and  owls  and  hawks  and  boys. 
It  is  not  easy  to  find  a  nest  that  looks  just  like  every- 
thing about  it. 


CRADLE  MAKING. 


77 


The  ground  -owl 1  is  a  queer  bird.  She  does  not 
select  a  swinging  branch  or  a  crotch  of  a  tree  for  her 
babies;  but  she  takes  possession  of  a  ground  squirrel's 
hole  and  lays  her  eggs  there.  So  you  see  it  is  rather  a 
bed  than  a  cradle.  Jf  you  are  in  luck,  you  will  find 
the  nest  of  the  ground  owl  in  the  ground  from  four  to 


GROUND  OWL. 

twenty  feet  away  from  the  hole  or  doorway.  It  may 
not  be  more  than  a  few  inches  under  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  but  it  is  hard  to  know  just  where  to  strike  it. 

When  a  merry  schoolboy  gets  a  spade  and  flings  his 
jacket  off  and  begins  in  good  earnest  to  dig  out  a 
ground  owl,  take  our  word  for  it,  he  has  a  good  piece 

1  Speotyto  cunicularia  liypogaza. 


78  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

of  work  on  his  hands.  Ten  to  one  he  will  dig  till  sun- 
down, and  go  home  tired  and  cross,  with  nothing  to 
show  for  his  pains.  Mr.  Owl,  just  an  inch  or  two  from 
the  tip  of  the  spade,  is  no  doubt  holding  on  to  his  sides 
with  laughter,  if  owls  ever  do  laugh  in  that  way. 

The  nest  of  the  ground  owl  is  not  much  of  an  affair, 
only  some  coarse  stuff  lining  the  hollow  at  the  end  of 
this  long  hole.  Mrs.  Owl  is  lazy,  and  can  leave  her 
eggs  in  this  warm  place  a  long  time  and  be  sure  that 
they  will  not  chill.  She  pays  her  rent  to  the  squirrels 
by  eating  any  little  squirrels  she  can  lay  hands  on. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

OUR   SCREECH   OWL. 

SPEAKING  of  owls  reminds  us  of  a  pet  screech  owl 
which  once  happened  to  belong  to  us.  One  evening 
in  midsummer  we  heard  a  thump  against  the  screen  in 
front  of  the  fireplace,  as  if  something  rather  soft  had 
fallen  down  the  chimney.  Of  course  we  hurried  to  see 
what  it  could  be,  and  there  was  a  small  mouse,  not  at 
all  hurt. 

We  caught  it  as  soon  as  we  could,  and  found  that  it 
was  covered  with  soot  from  its  long,  dark  journey. 
Then  we  began  guessing  how  it  happened  to  get  into 
the  chimney-top.  There  Avas  no  possible  way  for  it  to 
do  this  except  by  being  carried  there  by  some  other 


OUR   SCREECH  OWL. 


79 


SCREEOH   OWL. 

creature.  We  at  once  suspected  that  an  owl  had 
caught  the  mouse  and  taken  it  to  the  top  of  the  chim- 
ney to  eat.  Here  the  mouse  had  managed  to  escape, 
falling  down  the  long,  gloomy  shaft.  This  was  what 
we  imagined,  you  know. 


80  OUR    FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

Next  morning  we  were  under  the  trees  in  the  garden, 
when  all  the  birds  in  another  part  of  the  yard  com- 
menced such  a  clatter  that  we  ran  to  find  out  the  cause. 
It  was  a  funny  sight  and  a  droll  sound.  There  were 
the  mocking-birds,  and  the  sparrows,  and  the  linnets, 
and  the  finches,  and  the  bush-tits,  and,  last  and  least, 
the  tiny  humming-birds,  each  and  all  screaming  at  the 
top  of  their  voices  and  hopping  about  in  a  certain  tree. 

We  knew  in  a  moment  there  must  be  an  enemy  there, 
and  began  to  search  for  him.  The  birds  were  not 
afraid,  but  flew  toward  us,  looking  us  in  the  face,  while 
they  screamed  louder  than  before.  By  this  we  knew 
that  we  must  be  very  near  the  enemy. 

It  did  not  take  much  hunting  to  find  the  cause  of 
the  uproar.  On  a  low  branch  of  the  tree  sat  a  screech 
owl,1  blinking  away  sleepily.  He  was  not  at  all  embar- 
rassed by  so  many  callers,  nor  frightened  by  their  noise. 

One  of  us  reached  up  behind  the  bird  and  .took  hold 
of  him  around  the  legs  and  tail,  grabbing  him  firmly, 
so  that  he  could  not  bite  or  get  away.  Then  we  brought 
an  unused  robin's  cage  and  put  the  owl  in  it.  He 
began  to  spit  at  us,  as  a  cat  does  when  it  is  angry  or 
frightened,  and  this  excited  the  birds  all  the  more. 
They  followed  us  while  we  took  the  cage  to  the  back 
door-steps,  and  then  they  took  their  places  on  the 
clothes-line  and  the  pump  and  the  bushes  near  by, 
chirping  and  scolding  in  a  bustling  way  that  was  quite 
laughable. 

1  Mcgascops  asio  bendirei. 


OUR   SCREECH   OWL.  81 

More  birds  came  in  from  the  neighboring  yards,  and 
the  din  they  all  made  grew  so  great  that  we  had  to  shut 
the  owl  in  the  woodshed.  Then  the  birds  seemed  to 
hold  a  council  to  talk  the  trouble  over,  and  to  devise 
ways  and  means  of  getting  rid  of  the  enemy.  At  last 
they  seemed  to  settle  the  matter,  and  went  away.  But 
we  noticed  a  number  of  linnets  and  a  -mocker  in  sight, 
as  if  they  had  been  left  in  charge  as  spies,  and  spies 
they  were  in  fact. 

As  soon  as  we  took  the  cage  out  again  and  attempted 
to  pet  the  owl  and  watch  him,  these  spy  birds  gave  a 
shrill  call,  when  back  came  all  the  other  birds.  We 
carried  the  cage  to  the  upper  balcony,  and  the  confusion 
was  the  same.  At  last  we  left  it  in  the  shed. 

This  owl  had  doubtless  caught  the  mouse  the  night 
before  and  dropped  it  down  our  chimney,  so  we  thought 
we  would  keep  him  a  while,  to  teach  him  better  than  to 
be  prowling  around  our  house  in  the  evening.  His 
feathers  were  very  soft  and  thick,  as  are  the  feathers  of 
most  owls.  Being  so  soft,  and  able  to  fly  without  any 
noise,  the  owls  can  catch  their  game  on  the  sly,  while 
the  hawks  depend  upon  their  swiftness  for  their  food. 
It  makes  no  difference,  when  a  hawk  is  on  the  hunt, 
whether  he  makes  a  noise  with  his  coarse  feathers  or 
not;  he  knows  that  he  can  be  quick  enough  to  catch 
his  little  victims,  be  they  birds  or  mice. 

Well,  we  kept  that  screech  owl  just  as  long  as  we 
wanted  his  company.  He  was  not  a  beautiful  or  an 
interesting  pet.  In  fact,  he  would  not  be  petted  at  all. 


82  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

He  did  cease  to  spit  and  growl  at  us  in  a  day  or  two, 
but  he  never  seemed  to  return  our  good  feeling  or  to 
place  any  trust  in  us.  He  slept  or  blinked  all  day,  and 
when  night  came  he  was  hungry.  We  taught  him  to 
take  pieces  of  raw  beef  from  the  end  of  a  long  stick,  not 
daring  to  give  it  to  him  from  our  fingers.  He  seemed  to 
enjoy  this  food.-  But  what  suited  him  best  was  mice. 

We  caught  these  mice  in  a  trap  in  the  grain  bin,  and 
gave  them  to  the  owl  only  when  they  were  dead.  As 
soon  as  the  bird  saw  a  mouse,  he  would  snatch  it 
quickly  and  growl  at  it  and  shake  it,  and  stick  his 
sharp  claws  through  it,  pinning  it  to  the  roost.  It 
would  take  him  a  long  while,  sometimes  two  or  three 
hours,  to  eat  a  whole  mouse,  but  he  never  once  let  go 
of  it  with  his  claws.  He  would  tear  it  to  pieces,  skin 
and  all,  and  eat  the  shreds.  He  seemed  to  be  obliged 
to  rest  after  each  mouthful,  going  to  sleep  between 
times,  still  clinging  to  what  was  left  of  his  supper, 
and  growling  if  we  tried  to  take  it  away  from  him. 

After  a  while  he  would  disgorge  or  throw  up  the 
hard  and  hairy  parts,  and  then  he  would  take  more  of 
his  food. 

We  did  not  care  to  keep  this  owl,  and  so  one  evening 
we  let  him  fly  away.  He  was  seen  in  the  yard  many 
times  that  summer,  and  the  birds  always  told  us  where 
he  was,  though  they  never  made  quite  so  much  noise 
as  at  first.  They  grew  used  to  having  him  around. 
He  never  lighted  on  so  low  a  bough  again,  probably 
remembering  how  he  had  been  taken  the  first  time. 


BIRDS  AT   WORK  AND   PLAY.  83 

We  did  riot  care  if  he  did  choose  to  live  in  our  yard, 
for  we  knew  very  well  his  lazy  habit  of  sleeping  all 
day.  When  he  woke  up  at  night  we  knew  the  little 
birds  would  all  be  in  bed.  He  was  welcome  to  the 
mice  and  the  crickets  and  June  bugs. 

We  are  not  fond  of  owls.  It  is  dismal  to  hear  their 
utoo-hoo,  too-hoo,"  as  they  try  to  sing.  We  are  glad 
that  they  try,  for  even  a  poor  song  is  better  than  no 
song  at  all.  Owls  cannot  sing  any  better  than  turkeys. 
In  fact,  we  prefer  turkeys  to  owls  for  music.  Don't 
you? 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

BIRDS   AT   WOUK   AND   PLAY. 

IT  sounds  very  strange  to  speak  of  a  bird  at  play. 
But  you  can  see  that  birds  do  play,  if  you  will  give 
yourself  the  pleasure  of  watching  them.  They  run 
along  under  the  hedges  and  fences  at  hide-and-seek. 
They  will  stop  suddenly  and  scold  at  one  another  for 
not  playing  "fair  " ;  and  they  actually  play  at  leap-frog, 
hopping  over  one  another's  backs,  never  once  using 
their  hands. 

Sometimes  they  play  "  tag  "  high  up  in  the  air,  espe- 
cially the  humming-birds  and  others  of  swift  wing. 
You  can  see  them  playing  when  they  are  so  high  that 
they  look  like  bumble-bees.  Then  perhaps  they  fly  out 
of  sight  in  the  blue  of  the  sky. 


84  OUE  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

But  the  birds  seem  to  do  more  work  than  play.  It 
is  as  if  they  were  saying, 

"  All  play  and  no  work 
Makes  a  bird  a  mere  shirk." 

Most  father  birds  help  their  mates  in  the  cradle 
making,  whenever  they  can  get  away  for  a  few  minutes 
from  the  orchestra.  But  the  mother  has  the  care  of 
everything  and  does  the  most  and  the  finest  work. 
We  have  sometimes  thought  the  mother  would  do  better 
if  left  all  to  herself,  the  fathers  are  so  fussy  and  awk- 
ward at  housekeeping. 

Once,  in  the  middle  of  winter,  we  saw  a  father  linnet 
trying  his  best  to  coax  his  mate  to  build  a  nest  on  a 
little  shelf  on  the  upper  balcony.  He  carried  straws 
in  his  bill,  and  sat  on  the  shelf,  and  coaxed  his  mate 
to  his  side,  whispering  to  her,  as  if  he  were  saying, 
"How  nice  this  is,"  and  urging  her  to  "Go  right  to 
work."  We  guessed  all  that,  you  know,  about  their 
talking  together,  while  we  stood  and  watched  them 
out  of  the  window. 

But  the  wise  little  mother  bird  just  laughed  provok- 
ingly  and  flew  away.  We  thought  she  was  laughing, 
for  the  father  bird  looked  a  little  bit  ashamed,  and  held 
his  head  down,  though  he  still  clung  to  his  straw  and 
remained  for  a  while  sitting  on  the  little  shelf.  He 
might  have  known  that  was  no  time  or  place  to  build  a 
cradle.  It  was  midwinter,  and  besides  the  shelf  was 
slippery. 


B1BDS  AT   WORK  AND  PLAT.  85 

It  is  common  for  a  pair  of  birds  to  talk  about 
housekeeping,  or  even  to  build,  a  long  while  before 
they  need  the  nest.  We  have  seen  them  hunting  for 
the  best  spot  and  chatting  about  it,  as  if  they  were 
saying,  "This  will  never  do,"  or,  "This  will  be  just 
the  right  place  when  the  time  comes." 

We  have  seen  towhees  and  other  birds  picking  up 
pieces  of  sticks  and  string  in  November,  and  carrying 
them  about  as  if  they  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
their  treasures.  We  should  think  better  of  them  if 
they  would  lay  the  sticks  and  twine  away  in  a  safe 
place  until  they  are  ready  to  use  them.  They  seem 
never  to  think  of  that,  but  drop  the  things  wherever 
they  happen  to  be. 

Birds  like  to  pull  at  twine  even  if  they  have  no  use 
for  it.  They  pick  at  the  ends  of  fibrous  bark,  as  if 
they  valued  most  highly  what  costs  them  the  most 
trouble  to  get. 

A  lady  we  knew  was  in  the  habit  of  throwing  out  of 
the  window  the  hairs  which  came  out  of  her  head  when 
she  used  the  comb  and  brush  in  the  morning.  These 
hairs  were  caught  in  a  bush,  and  the  birds  discovered 
them.  One  day  her  son  found  a  bird's  nest  near  the 
window,  all  lined  with  the  white  hairs  which  once 
grew  on  his  dear  mother's  head.  You  may  be  sure  the 
son  keeps  that  bird's  nest  among  his  treasures. 

Birds  are  very  fond  of  hairs  of  any  sort  for  their  nest 
linings.  We  have  many  times  placed  them  within 
their  reach  and  sight,  and  they  will  take  them  up. 


86  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

They  also  use  chicken  feathers,  if  they  are  close  at 
hand,  and  bits  of  soft  paper. 

If  you  want  to  see  something  that  will  amuse  you, 
fasten  on  a  tree  or  log  a  piece  of  old  rope  that  has  a 
ravelled  end.  Every  day  in  nesting  time  the  birds 
will  tug  at  that  ravelled  end  of  rope,  turning  somer- 
saults in  their  hurry,  and  spending  more  time  chasing 
one  another  away  from  it  than  in  actual  work. 

When  a  bird  begins  to  build  her  nest,  she  uses  coarse 
materials  first,  just  as  a  house  builder  uses  beams  and 
timbers  to  begin  with.  The  bird  and  the  house  builder 
save  all  the  fine  stuff  for  the  last.  Look  closely  at  a 
nest  when  you  find  one.  Pick  up  an  old  last  year's 
nest  that  has  blown  down.  This  year's  nests  do  not 
belong  to  you.  See  how  there  are,  first,  large  sticks 
or  weeds,  or  rolls  of  mud.  Between  the  large  sticks  or 
weeds  there  are  small,  short  ones.  You  can  imagine 
that  these  pieces  all  together  are  nails  and  boards,  and 
help  to  hold  the  whole  nest  together.  Perhaps  these 
may  be  all  bound  together  with  spiders'  web  or  string, 
or  even  paper. 

We  have  seen  nests  made  of  nothing  but  one  kind  of 
weed;  usually  a  weed  that  has  a  strong  smell,  like  wild 
sage  or  yarrow,  is  chosen.  We  think  that  the  smell  of 
these  strong-scented  weeds  prevents  lice  or  mites  from 
invading  the  nest.  Perhaps  the  force  of  habit  or  taste 
has  led  the  bird  to  select  this  material.  Probably  her 
mother  before  her  made  the  same  sort  of  a  nest,  and 
so  she  thinks  that  is  about  the  right  thing  to  do. 


BIRDS  AT   WORK  AND  PLAY. 


87 


Some  birds,  as  the  swallows,  make  mud  houses,  after 
the  manner  of  the  Mexicans.  We  often  wonder  if 
these  people  got  their  idea  of  house  building  from  the 
birds. 


BARN  SWALLOW. 


Other  birds  use  sticks  and  cement,  as  a  man  does 
brick  and  mortar.  Some  of  the  sea  birds  lay  their  eggs 
on  a  bare,  flat  rock.  Even  these 'do  not  roll  off  from 
the  rock,  for  all  eggs  are  oblong  and  cannot  roll  in  a 
straight  line.  We  have  never  seen  a  perfectly  round 
egg.  If  you  take  an  egg  of  any  kind,  as  a  hen's  egg, 
and  try  to  roll  it  down  the  floor  or  lawn,  you  will  see 


88 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


what  we  mean.  Then  try  a  perfectly  round  ball.  You 
will  see  that  it  is  better  that  birds'  eggs  are  oblong  or 
elliptical. 


- 


MARSH  OWL. 

The  cactus  wren  l  makes  her  nest  in  the  middle  of  a 
great  barbed  cactus  in  our  mountain  washes  or  desert 
places.  The  tiny  Costa's  humming-bird2  builds  its 
frail  nest  in  the  prickly  elbow  of  the  low  cactus  that 
grows  in  California  all  over  the  barren  lowlands.  This 
is  probably  for  safety.  A  snake  could  hardly  reach  a 
1  Heleodytes  brunneicapillus.  2  Calypte  costce. 


SOME  OTHER   BIRDS  AT    WORK. 


89 


COSTA'S  HUMMING-BIRD. 


nest  which  was  built  in  the  middle  of  a  cactus  whose 
needles,  or  thorns,  are  sometimes  an  inch  long. 


CHAPTER   XVIIT. 

SOME   OTHER    BIRDS   AT    WORK. 

NOT  many  of  the  birds  in  our  yard  are  quarrelsome. 
They  seem  to  respect  one  another's  rights,  especially 
at  nesting  time.  It  is  not  so  much  our  business  to  tell 
bad  or  unpleasant  things  about  birds,  as  to  tell  what  is 


90  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

pleasant  and  what  will  make  you  love  them.  That  is 
why  we  spoke  a  good  word  for  the  shrikes  and  the 
hawks  and  the  owls. 

If  a  pair  of  birds  have  selected  the  limb  of  a  tree 
upon  which  to  build  a  cradle,  they  are  not  often  driven 
from  it  by  other  birds.  It  seems  to  us  that  when  a 
sparrow  has  put  a  piece  of  twine  over  a  bough,  it  is  as 
if  she  had  written  her  name  on  it  or  got  a  deed  for  that 
particular  bough. 

If  you  should  wish  to  tame  a  pair  of  birds  that  are 
building  their  nest  where  you  may  watch  them,  wait 
until  the  nest  is  finished  or  until  the  first  egg  is  laid. 
Sometimes  it  is  better  to  wait  for  the  little  birds.  A 
bird  will  desert  an  unfinished  nest  if  she  suspects  you 
are  watching  her.  But  she  dislikes  to  throw  away  all 
of  her  labor,  and  will  often  lay  her  eggs  and  hatch  her 
young  while  you  are  looking  at  her,  rather  than  begin 
her  nest  all  over  again. 

If  you  take  just  one  egg  from  the  nest  of  some  birds, 
leaving  all  of  the  others,  the  parents  will  never  go  to 
it  again.  There  are  other  timid,  delicate  birds  who 
will  leave  their  nest  if  you  just  go  up  softly  and  peep 
into  it.  The  parent  birds  may  not  be  in  sight,  and 
you  may  think  they  will  never  know.  But  they  have 
been  in  hiding  and  have  seen  you  steal  up,  and  they 
will  desert  the  place  and  the  nest.  Only  a  few  birds 
will  do  this,  however,  and  these  are  mostly  those  Avhich 
live  far  away,  in  a  quiet  dell  or  on  a  hill  where  people 
seldom  go. 


SOME  OTHER  BlfiDS  AT    WORK.  91 

We  feel  quite  sure  that  we  can  tame  almost  any  home 
bird  at  nesting  time.  A  goldfinch1  has  just  built  her 
nest  in  an  apple  tree  near  our  house.  We  have  tamed 
the  mother  bird  so  that  we  can  smooth  her  feathers  on 
her  neck  and  breast  with  our  fingers  while  she  is  sit- 
ting on  the  nest.  At  first  we  took  leaves  in  our  hand 
and  touched  her  with  them.  She  did  not  care  for  the 
leaves ;  they  were  all  about  her  in  the  tree.  Gradually 
we  dropped  the  leaves,  until  she  was  not  afraid  of  our 
hands. 

We  wished  to  take  a  photograph  of  her,  and  did  so 
one  very  warm  day.  She  sat  in  the  heat,  with  her 
wings  lifted  to  let  the  air  through,  and  her  bill  parted 
as  if  she  were  panting.  The  father  bird  comes  to  feed 
her  on  the  nest,  just  as  their  young  are  fed,  with  his  bill 
in  hers.  These  finches  are  nurslings,  you  know,  and 
are  fed  on  prepared  food. 

The  oriole  2  is  a  very  interesting  bird  with  us.  She 
chooses  to  hang  her  hammock  or  cradle  beneath  a  festoon 
of  thick  leaves  on  a  swaying  bough,  or  from  a  drooping 
twig.  Here  she  prefers  a  broad  green  banana  leaf  or 
the  great  leaf-  of  a  fan  palm.  These  leaves  are  good 
shelter  from  the  sunshine. 

The  banana  leaf  is  about  five  feet  long,  and  doubles 
on  its  midrib  like  a  book  cover  during  the  middle  of 
the  day.  At  night  and  early  in  the  morning,  when  it 
is  cool,  the  leaf  opens  better,  and  it  is  then  that  the  bird 
works  at  her  hammock.  When  the  pouch  is  finished, 
1  Spinus  psaltria.  '2  Icterus  cucullatus  nelsoni. 


92  OUR   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

the  leaf  is  kept  from  doubling  quite  up  and  is  like  a 
sharp  roof  over  the  lieads  of  the  young  and  their  mother. 
The  banana  leaf  is  constantly  waving  and  trembling, 
even  when  there  is  scarcely  a  bit  of  breeze. 

Another  favorite  place  for  an  oriole  to  build  her 
hammock  is  the  under-  side  of  the  fan-palm  leaf.  You 
will  wonder  how  a  bird  can  weave  a  thread  in  and  out 
of  a  leaf,  when  she  has  no  fingers  or  needles.  We  have 
watched  an  oriole  do  this  many  a  time,  and  this  is  how 
it  is  done.  She  takes  a  thread  in  her  beak  and  pushes 
it  through  the  leaf  from  one  side.  Then  she  flies  to 
the  other  side  and  pushes  the  same  thread  back  through 
another  opening  in  the  leaf  which  she  has  made  with 
her  bill.  Thus  she  weaves  a  kind  of  cloth  pouch  on 
the  under  side  of  the  leaf,  flying  back  and  forth  from 
the  upper  to  the  under  side.  The  pouch  or  hammock 
is  lined,  and  there  the  eggs  are  laid.  You  can  see  the 
mother's  head  sticking  out  from  the  nest,  but  if  she 
knows  you  are  watching,  she  will  draw  her  head  out  of 
sight,  so  you  will  see  nothing  but  the  nest. 

The  thread  most  used  by  orioles  here  is  the  fibre 
which  ravels  from  the  edges  of  the  palm  leaves.  Where 
such  thread  is  not  to  be  had,  they  use  twine  or  string 
of  any  sort. 

Young  orioles  meet  with  many  dangers  before  they 
leave  the  hammock.  Sometimes  their  feet  get  tangled 
in  the  thread  or  horsehairs  of  which  the  nest  is  partly 
made.  When  the  little  helpless  things  attempt  to  fly 
out,  they  are  sometimes  caught  by  the  toes,  and  there 


SOME  OTHER   BIRDS  AT    WORK.  93 

they  hang.  We  have  rescued  several  which  were 
caught  this  way. 

It  seems  strange  that  a  bird  which  can  build  so  beau- 
tiful and  fine  a  nest  of  threads  does  not  know  enough 
to  pull  the  strings  off  from  her  baby's  toes  when  it  is 
caught  in  this  way.  They  may  do  this  sometimes,  but 
we  have  never  seen  them  do  anything  but  fly  about  in 
a  helpless  way,  chattering  as  orioles  do. 

Orioles  keep  no  secrets  to  themselves.  They  are 
"tell-tales,"  and  keep  up  a  constant  chat  among  them- 
selves and  at  intruders.  They  are  different  in  this 
respect  from  some  other  birds,  who  are  as  quiet  as  mice, 
never  whispering  a  word  as  to  where  their  nests  are, 
and  deceiving  you,  if  they  can,  by  limping  away  as  if 
they  were  hurt.  Such  quiet  birds  will  raise  a  nest 
full  of  birds  and  be  off  while  you  are  wondering  where 
they  are. 

We  do  not  have  chimney  swifts  in  California;  but 
we  lived  in  New  England  once,  and  we  recollect  very 
well  what  a  racket  they  used  to  make  in  the  chimneys. 
Sometimes  the  nests  fell  down  into  the  fireplace,  and 
then  what  a  commotion !  . 

Some  swallows  choose  to  build  under  the  eaves,  and 
in  caves  and  tunnels,  and  on  the  under  side  of  bridges, 
or  in  crevices  of  rocks.  We  have  often  wondered  that 
a  bird  mother  can  tell  her  own  nest  among  so  many 
that  look  just  alike.  We  have  stood  and  watched  the 
barn  swallows,  and  felt  sure  that  they  count,  "  One, 
two,  three,  here's  my  nest."  How  else  do  you  sup- 


94 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


pose  that  a  mother  can  be  sure  that  she  has  come  to  the 
right  nest? 

We  have  seen  mother  birds  cry  and  call  loudly,  as  if 
for  help,  when  the  babies  have  fallen  out  of  the  nest. 
If  you  pick  up  one  birdling  and  place  it  back  in  the 


CAT-BIRD. 

nest,  the  mother  takes  a  quick  glance  at  it,  and  then 
goes  on  calling  as  before.  She  will  not  stop  until  she 
sees  every  one  of  them  safe  back  in  the  cradle.  This 
makes  us  think  that  some  birds  do  count. 

In  Tennessee,  where  we  once  lived,  the  cat-birds  and 
brown  thrushes  used  to  build  their  nests  in  the  porches 
and  vines  above  the  door.  Sometimes  we  would  take 


SOME   OTHER   BIRDS  AT    WORK. 


95 


the  young  birds  from  the  nest  and  keep  them  in  the 
parlor  for  company,  taming  and  feeding  them,  and 
allowing  them  to  flutter  about  on  the  floor  to  amuse 
strangers.  Perhaps  we  would  have  them  in  the  house 
for  an  hour. 


BROWN  THRUSH. 

When  we  opened  the  door  to  take  them  home  again, 
the  old  birds  would  be  standing  close  by,  like  dogs 
whose  masters  are  in  the  house.  When  they  saw  us, 
they  would  set  up  such  a  scolding  that  we  felt  quite 
ashamed  for  having  kidnapped  their  children  even  for 
so  short  a  time.  They  grew  used  to  our  ways  before 
the  summer  was  over,  and  would  soon  let  us  take  the 
young  without  so  much  ado. 


96  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

Small  birds,  such  as  the  goldfinches  and  humming- 
birds, use  a  good  deal  of  spider's  web  in  making  their 
cradles.  This  is  very  soft,  and  when  many  strands  are 
used  together  it  is  very  strong.  This  web  is  used  to 
hold  the  mosses  and  plants  down  in  place.  When  you 
see  the  bushes  and  hedges  all  covered  with  web  in  a 
damp  morning,  think  of  the  little  bird  house-builders. 
Watch,  in  some  quiet  corner  out  of  sight  of  them,  and 
you  will  see  the  mother  humming-bird  or  goldfinch 
dart  up  to  the  glistening  webs  and  examine  them  in 
turn,  just  as  a  lady  who  is  out  shopping  examines  the 
different  goods  in  a  store. 

Madam  Bird  flies  down  to  a  small  web,  taking  a  bite 
at  it  with  her  slender  bill,  as  if  she  were  feeling  of  it 
with  her  fingers. 

Then  she  flies  off  to  another  spider's  counter  of  goods 
and  pecks  at  another  web.  When  she  has  found  what 
suits  her,  she  will  take  several  bird  yards  of  it  home 
with  her. 

In  the  nest  of  our  goldfinch  in  the  apple  tree,  we  see 
some  spider  web  binding  the  grasses  together,  but  the 
nest  itself  is  lined  with  horsehairs.  We  have  one  bay 
horse  and  one  black  horse.  In  this  nest  lining  there 
are  hairs  from  the  tails  of  both  horses,  woven  round 
with  great  care  in  a  striped  way,  that  looks  as  if  the 
bird  had  thought  about  how  it  would  look,  the  red  and 
the  black  together. 


A  PET  HUMMING-BIED.  97 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

A    PET   HUMMING-BIRD. 

HUMMING-BIED  mothers  are  very  tender  of  their 
young  and  will  seldom  go  out  of  sight  of  them.  We 
have  ourselves  picked  the  mother  from  the  nest  and  let 
her  go,  when  she  would  immediately  return  to  it. 

If  you  see  a  humming-bird  sitting  on  a  twig  napping, 
just  clasp  your  hands  behind  you  and  go  straight  up  to 
the  bird.  You  can  almost  touch  it  with  your  face,  but 
if  you  put  out  your  hand  the  bird  will  dart  away.  A 
hummer  will  alight  on  the  flowers  you  may  be  carry- 
ing, if  you  remain  perfectly  still.  These  birds  seem 
to  notice  movement  more  than  form. 

Humming-birds,  like  many  others,  do  not  seem  to 
notice  a  person  if  he  is  going  toward  them  in  a  straight 
line.  It  is  "sidewise  "  movement  that  frightens  them. 

We  have  known  a  humming-bird  to  "play  'possum," 
though  we  are  told,  by  some  one  who  ought  to  know, 
that  it  was  really  frightened  almost  to  death. 

This  bird  had  come  in  at  an  open  window  for  some 
flowers  left  on  the  sill.  On  leaving  the  room,  by  some 
mistake  it  flew  up  to  the  ceiling  instead  of  going  out 
at  the  window.  The  ceiling  was  high,  so  we  took  a 
long  broom  and  chased  the  bird,  catching  it  on  the 
wisp  end  and  bringing  it  down.  It  did  not  stir, 
though  we  were  sure  we  had  not  hurt  it.  We  took  it 


98  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

in  our  hands,  and  it  lay  on  its  back  with  its  eyes  shut, 
as  if  it  were  indeed  dead.  Then  we  carried  it  to  the 
garden,  feeling  very  sorry.  Suddenly  one  black  eye 
opened,  and  then  the  other,  when,  in  a  flash,  the  little 
bird  was  off. 

One  day  in  spring  a  certain  professor  whom  we  know, 
who  is  very  fond  of  hunting  toadstools,  caught  sight  of 
what  he  felt  sure  was  a  rare  one  on  the  limb  of  a  live- 
oak  tree.  The  heart  of  the  professor  beat  with  joy,  for 
he  would  rather  find  a  new  kind  of  toadstool  or  lichen 
than  a  gold  mine,  and  he  put  out  his  hand  to  pick  this 
new  one  off.  It  moved,  and  he  looked  at  it.  It  was  a 
baby  hummer,  just  fledged,  and  very  delicate.  It  did 
not  know  enough  to  be  afraid  of  him,  and  cuddled  in 
his  hand  as  if  it  were  the  nest. 

He  knew  how  much  we  like  birds,  and  so  the  pro- 
fessor put  the  baby  in  his  pocket  basket  and  brought  it 
home  to  us.  The  bird  was  unhurt  and  as  free  from 
fear  as  a  real  baby.  Its  face  looked  like  a  baby  face, 
as  the  faces  of  all  young  birds  look,  innocent  and  sweet, 
and  full  of  a  helpless,  not  frightened,  expression.  You 
can  look  at  the  pictures  and  see  that  this  is  true. 

To  feed  this  bird,  which  seemed  hungry,  we  mixed 
some  sugar  and  water.  It  would  not  open  its  bill,  so 
we  held  the  sweet  in  a  spoon  and  dipped  the  beak  into 
it.  It  tasted,  and  then  put  out  its  tongue  and  lapped 
some.  This  very  slender,  thread-like  tongue  was  long 
and  black  and  very  quick  of  movement. 

Every  hour  we  fed  it  with  this  sweetened  water,  and 


A   PET  HUMMING-BIRD.  99 

it  came  to  know  the  spoon  by  sight  and  to  look  for  it 
when  we  were  coming.  We  moistened  our  lips  with 
the  syrup,  and  the  little  thing  would  move  towards  us, 
placing  its  bill  on  our  lips  and  thrusting  its  dainty 
tongue  all  around  in  a  way  that  was  very  amusing. 

We  did  not  know  as  much  about  humming-birds  then 
as  we  have  learned  since,  or  we  should  have  fed  it  as 
often  as  every  fifteen  minutes,  and  used  honey  in  place 
of  water. 

It  loved  to  perch  on  the  edge  of  a  wicker  basket, 
whose  rim  was  so  easy  to  cling  to.  It  would  shimmer 
in  the  sunshine  like  a  piece  of  silk,  no  larger  than  "a 
great  big  bumble-bee." 

In  a  few  days  it  could  fly  all  about  the  room,  but  it 
could  not  fix  its  toes  on  or  around  anything,  and  would 
fall  helpless  to  the  floor  or  drop  behind  the  pictures. 

It  was  cold  at  night,  though  we  covered  it  with  warm 
things,  and  often  we  would  warm  it  in  our  hands  before 
morning.  It  needed  the  warmth  of  its  mother's  breast. 

It  learned  to  drink  cold  water,  and  to  expect  it  after 
each  meal  of  syrup,  as  if  it  wanted  to  rinse  its  mouth. 
It  lapped  up  the  water  like  a  kitten,  its  queer,  frail 
tongue  looking  like  a  bit  of  black  thread  in  the  clear 
water. 

We  tried  to  get  it  to  take  tiny  spiders,  which  we 
hunted  in  the  garden,  but  it  refused,  and  did  not  live 
with  us  very  long. 

We  think  we  ought  to  have  given  it  a  little  milk  to 
take  the  place  of  spiders,  which  it  must  have  missed. 


100  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

We  shall  never  try  to  have  another  pet  so  frail  as 
this ;  these  birds  seem  too  delicate  to  touch.  Our  fin- 
gers are  not  light  enough.  We  have  a  friend  who  kept 
a  young  hummer  for  three  months,  and  they  are  said  to 
live  even  longer  than  this  when  in  captivity. 

Of  all  our  bird  friends,  we  think  the  humming-bird 
the  most  wonderful  and  interesting.  This  perhaps  is 
because  it  is  the  smallest  and  wisest  of  all  the  birds 
we  know. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

HOW   WE   TOOK   THE   HUMMING-BIRDS '    PICTURES. 

THERE  are  seventeen  or  eighteen  kinds  of  humming- 
birds in  the  United  States.  Here  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia we  have  five  or  six.  The  largest  of  these  is 
the  Anna's  Humming-bird.1  It  was  called  "Anna's 
Hummer  "  in  honor  of  a  lady  of  that  name. 

This  bird  measures  about  four  inches  from  the  tip  of 
its  beak  to  the  end  of  its  tail.  The  female  is  a  mixt- 
ure of  gray  and  green  underneath,  with  a  shining 
green  back.  The  male  has  a  throat  and  head  of  change- 
able bright  colors,  which  shimmer  like  some  metallic 
substance  as  he  turns  about  in  the  sunshine. 

The  bill  of  these  birds  is  five-eighths  of  an  inch  long, 
and  the  tongue  is  much  longer.  With  this  long,  ex- 
tensible tongue  it  can  suck  the  honey  from  the  deepest 
1  Calypte  annae. 


TH 


77/7?  HUMMING-BIRDS*  PICTURES.  101 

flowers.  It  may  be  seen  about  the  petunias  and  the 
honeysuckle  and  the  nasturtiums.  There  is  plenty  of 
sweet  at  the  end  of  these  trumpet-like  flowers  which 
the  bees  cannot  reach  with  their  shorter  tongues. 

It  was  the  Anna's  Hummer  which  we  photographed 
last  year  on  purpose  to  put  the  pictures  in  this  book, 
that  those  who  do  not  have  humming-birds  nesting  in 
their  yards,  or  where  they  can  study  them,  may  see 
just  how  they  look. 

We  have  no  snow  storms  here,  but  in  their  place  are 
long,  cold  rain  storms,  with  many  days  of  bright,  warm 
weather  between.  Flowers  bloom  all  the  time,  and  the 
humming-birds  see  no  reason  why  they  should  not 
attend  to  their  housekeeping.  It  is  as  if  they  thought, 
"Now  this  storm  is  over,  we  will  build  our  cradles," 
never  once  thinking  of  the  possibility  of  there  coming 
another  storm  before  the  birdlings  are  out  of  the  nest. 

We  were  walking  about  in  the  yard  one  bright  morn- 
ing late  in  December,  when  a  humming-bird  poised 
herself  above  some  pampas  grass  and  stole  a  single 
tuft.  This  pampas  grass  sends  up  its  long  spikes  of 
plumes  in  midsummer,  and  we  alwa3Ts  leave  a  few  of 
them  on  purpose  for  the  birds  to  get  for  their  nests. 
They  are  very  dusty  and  weather-beaten  by  winter,  but 
that  makes  no  difference,  for  the  little  separate  tufts 
are  good  for  crib  beds. 

When  we  saw  the  bird  at  the  pampas  grass,  we  knew 
that  she  was  nesting,  so  we  watched  her.  She  flew  to 
a  low  shrub  near  the  path  and  left  the  tuft.  Then  she 


102  OUR  FEATHERED    FRIENDS. 

darted  to  a  cypress  hedge  where  there  were  plenty  of 
spiders'  webs.  She  gathered  a  bill  full  of  this  web 
and  returned  to  the  shrub.  In  a  moment  she  was  off 
to  the  pampas  grass  again,  and  we  stole  up  to  look. 
Not  three  feet  from  the  ground  was  the  beginning  of 
the  smallest  nest.  As  yet  it  was  a  mere  filmy  platform 
set  where  two  twigs  joined  hands,  beneath  a  cluster  of 
bluish-green  leaves. 

The  bird  was  shy  and  would  not  return  while  we 
were  in  sight,  so  we  went  away  and  waited,  knowing 
that  we  must  be  very  careful  not  to  disturb  her  if  we 
wished  her  to  finish  her  nest. 

Taming  this  little  bird  was  the  work  of  many  days. 
At  first  we  sat  perfectly  still  on  the  door-steps,  not  ten 
feet  away.  She  saw  us  even  there,  and  would  wait  in 
the  trees  above  for  a  long  while  before  she  was  quite 
sure  we  would  not  harm  her.  In  a  day  or  two  we 
could  sit  on  the  steps  or  move  about,  but  not  too  near. 
Before  the  nest  was  as  large  as  a  walnut  the  bird 
allowed  us  to  watch  her  a  few  feet  away,  provided  we 
stood  motionless.  She  was  indeed  a  delicate  creature, 
winding  the  web  around  -and  around,  so  that  the  pampas 
tufts  should  be  thick  and  firm. 

On  New  Year's  day  the  first  tiny  oblong  white  egg 
was  laid.  It  was  a  gem,  the  size  of  a  navy  bean,  in  a 
nest-setting  of  silver-gray  softness.  We  clasped  our 
hands  in  delight  at  this  beginning  of  what  would  be 
living  rainbow  tints.  In  four  days  its  mate  was  laid 
by  its  side-  These  birds  always  lay  just  two  eggs. 


THE  HUMMING-BIRDS'   PICTURES.  103 

Every  day  the  mother  bird  was  adding  more  web  and 
lichens  and  pampas  tufts,  turning  about  gently  and 
rapidly  to  shape  the  nest  around  her. 

We  have  never  seen  any  birds  except  the  hummers 
who  add  to  their  nests  during  incubation  and  after  the 
young  are  hatched.  On  the  twentieth  day  of  January 
the  first  egg  was  hatched.  We  stole  up  to  look,  and 
there  at  the  bottom  of  the  small  cradle  was  what 
looked  like  a  tiny  black  grub,  perfectly  bare.  We  im- 
agined the  mother  was  very  happy  and  thinking  in 
her  dear  little  heart  how  much  the  baby  resembled  its 
father. 

The  father,  as  is  the  custom  of  the  males  of  these 
humming-birds,  was  away  in  the  foothills  sucking 
sweets  from  the  mountain  flowers,  and  leaving  to  his 
mate  all  the  care  of  the  household.  It  seems  very  sel- 
fish of  him,  but  the  mother  bird  may  be  very  glad  to  be 
without  him.  What  does  a  father  humming-bird  know 
about  taking  care  of  such  tiny  babies? 

One  day  later  than  its  mate  the  other  egg  was 
hatched,  and  there  were  a  pair  of  black,  bare  grubs. 
They  had  no  bills,  except  a  tiny  point  in  the  middle 
of  the  mouth,  which  they  kept  open  in  a  coaxing  way. 
They  could  move  nothing  but  their  heads,  and  their 
eyes  were  shut  tight.  How  carefully  the  mother  fed 
them.  Many  a  time,  looking  on  at  meal-time,  we  were 
tempted  to  caution  the  mother  lest  she  thrust  her  bill  a 
little  too  far  down  the  small  throats.  She  winked  her 
black  eye  at  us,  while  we  stood  with  uplifted  finger, 


104  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

as  much  as  to  say,  "Don't  be  afraid,  I  have  nursed 
babies  before." 

As  the  birdlings  grew,  the  nest  had  to  be  enlarged, 
and  it  took  every  minute  of  the  mother's  time  to  keep 
the  household  matters  in  order.  In  a  few  days  down 
began  to  appear  upon  the  birds,  and  then  a  shimmering 
green  on  the  backs,  like  that  of  the  mother's  dress. 
Young  male  hummers  do  not  get  the  bright  head  and 
throat  until  the  first  moult.  When  the  birds  were  thus 
clothed,  the  mother  did  not  seem  to  thuik  it  necessary 
to  build  the  nest  up  about  them  any  higher,  so  the 
birds  were  crowded  out  gradually  as  they  grew,  until 
they  were  obliged  to  sit  on  the  edge,  a  pair  of  the 
sweetest  twins  one  ever  saw. 

A  storm  came  down  from  the  mountains  and  sur- 
prised the  faithful  little  mother,  but  she  sheltered  the 
babies  as  best  she  could  until  we  came  to  the  rescue 
with  a  gingham  apron,  which  we  pinned  in  place  above 
the  nest,  making  a  complete  shelter  for  all.  We  kept 
this  apron  in  place  for  a  week,  or  until  the  storm  was 
over.  People  passing  by  must  have  thought  us  very 
queer  housekeepers  to  spread  our  washing  in  the  front 
yard,  but  we  did  not  stop  to  explain. 

By  this  time  the  bird  had  grown  so  trustful  that  we 
could  do  almost  anything  without  scaring  her.  We 
fed  the  young  with  syrup  on  the  ends  of  our  fingers, 
while  the  mother  looked  on  astonished.  They  would 
put  out  their  fine  thread-like  tongues  and  look  at  us 
from  their  tiny  black  eyes,  as  if  thanking  us.  Their 


THE  HUMMING-BIRDS'   PICTURES. 


105 


bills  had  grown  out  until  they  were  quite  respectable 
by  the  time  the  babies  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  nest. 

As  soon  as  the  mother  became  tame  enough,  we  took 
the  pictures,  as  you  see  them.  While  we  stood  at  the 
nest,  she  would  fly  all  about  our  faces  and  look  at  our 


W-C-C 


ANNA'S  HUMMING-BIRDS. 


ears  and  eyes,  and  buzz  at  our  hair  in  a  very  funny  way. 
Once  we  bent  the  twig  from  its  place  in  the  shrub, 
and  held  it  close  to  our  faces,  and  the  mother  fed  the 
young,  brushing  our  cheeks  with  her  gauzy  wings. 
Then  we  tied  it  back  to  its  old  place  when  the  mother 
had  flown  away.  She  came  back  and  flew  in  our  faces, 


106  OUR   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

as  if  she  expected  to  find  the  babies  there.  Not  finding 
them  with  us,  she  Avent  back  to  the  shrub  as  if  nothing 
had  happened. 

It  was  a  wonderful  thing  to  have  this  shy  bird  so 
trustful  and  willing  to  have  her  photograph  taken. 

The  older  of  the  two  birds  left  the  nest  first,  and  we 
had  hard  work  to  get  him  to  be  still  enough  for  the  last 
sitting.  The  mother  came  down  and  sat  between  the 
two  birds  on  the  twig,  and  looked  at  the  bird  who 
wouldn't  keep  still,  as  if  she  were  scolding  him. 

She  seemed  just  like  a  real  person  taking  her  baby 
to  the  artist's  to  have  his  picture  taken.  Once  two 
strange  old  hummers  came  when  we  were  taking  the 
pictures,  and  bothered  us  a  good  deal.  They  made  our 
mother  hummer  nervous  and  cross,  and  she  drove  them 
away.  It  seemed  to  us  that  these  birds  wanted  to  have 
their  picture  taken  too,  but  we  could  not  quite  catch 
them,  because  they  were  not  well  enough  acquainted 
with  us  and  the  camera. 

One  day  the  babies  left  the  old  battered  nest  and  flew 
to  the  trees.  The  rim  of  the  nest  was  torn  and  worn 
away  by  the  feet  of  the  mother  as  she  stood  to  feed  the 
young.  We  noticed  that  for  a  few  days  after  they 
were  hatched  she  fed  them  every  fifteen  minutes,  but 
as  they  grew  stronger  she  gave  them  their  food  only 
once  an  hour,  or  at  even  longer  intervals. 

After  they  had  flown,  there  came  a  hard  storm,  and 
we  went  out  in  the  morning  expecting  to  find  the  babies 
dead  on  the  ground.  But  not  so;  there  they  sat  in  the 


\  B  P 

OF 


V  OF 


OUR   ROBIN  REDBREAST.  107 

sunshine  above  our  heads,  as  safe  as  could  be.  They 
remained  about  in  the  yard  for  two  or  three  weeks, 
when  they  disappeared,  no  doubt  going  to  the*foothills 
to  join  their  father  at  sucking  sweets  and  flitting 
among  the  vines. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

OUR   ROBIN   REDBREAST. 

ALMOST  every  child  knows  the  robin  redbreast.  He 
is  a  great  favorite  wherever  he  goes.  We  have  him 
with  us  in  Southern  California  only  in  winter  time  for 
a  few  weeks  after  the  rains  have  come.  When  our 
ground  is  mellow  with  moisture,  and  the  angle-worms 
have  worked  their  way  to  the  top,  leaving  little  loose 
hillocks  all  about  the  yard,  then  we  look  out  for  a  visit 
from  the  robins. 

They  come  in  companies  great  enough  to  fill  the 
tree-tops,  and  their  constant  song  reminds  us  of  old 
times  when  we  lived  in  the  New  England  States. 

Robins  are  "water  birds"  in  a  way,  although '  they 
do  not  swim.  They  are  perfectly  at  home  in  wet  grass 
or  foliage,  and  even  in  a  rain  storm.  They  never  seem 
to  have  any  use  for  umbrellas. 

Once,  Avhile  on  a  visit  to  some  friends  in  the  east, 
we  found  two  baby  robins  which  were  blown  from  their 
nest  in  a  storm.  We  fed  them  with  bread  soaked  in 
milk,  and  fresh  beef,  and  they  thrived.  We  shut  them 


108 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


in  an  empty  room  upstairs,  and  they  soon  learned  to 
look  for  us  and  to  know  our  step.  They  would  fly  to 
the  crack  of  the  doorway  and  squeal  when  they  heard 
us  coming.  Before  we  dared  open  the  door,  we  had  to 
push  the  birds  away,  for  fear  they  would  be  caught  and 
hurt. 


ROBIN. 

When  we  were  ready  to  start  for  our  California  home, 
we  put  the  robins  in  a  cage,  taking  as  much  food  as  we 
thought  they  would  need  on  the  journey.  In  a  day  or 
two  the  meat  gave  out,  and  they  grew  tired  of  bread 
and  water.  They  coaxed  constantly  for  beef,  so  we 
asked  a  porter  on  our  car  to  get  some  for  them. 

By  this   time   most  of   the   passengers    had   become 


OUR   ROBIN  REDBREAST.  109 

interested  in  our  robins,  and  a  gentleman  offered  to 
keep  them  in  beef  for  the  rest  of  the  journey.  He 
would  go  out  once  a  day,  when  the  train  stopped  long 
enough,  and  buy  some  beef.  Our  pets  came  to  be 
quite  an  attraction  in  the  car,  and  everybody  was 
anxious  to  do  something  for  the  little  travellers. 

We  took  the  birds  to  the  dressing-room  each  day  to 
clean  the  cage  and  to  give  them  a  bath.  We  washed 
them  one  at  a  time,  in  our  hands,  holding  them  under 
the  gently  flowing  faucet.  At  first  they  objected,  but 
they  soon  grew  to  like  it. 

During  the  first  year  they  never  sang  a  note,  for 
their  unmusical  squeak  could  certainly  not  be  called 
singing.  The  secqiid  spring  we  gave  them  a  large 
cage  in  the  yard,  that  they  might  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  other  birds.  In  a  short  time  an  old  mocking- 
bird came  and  gave  them  music  lessons. 

The  teacher  would  twist  his  toes  around  the  wires  of 
the  cage,  in  this  way  holding  himself  close  to  the  birds. 
Then  he  would  twitter  softly,  until  the  young  birds 
had  learned  to  respond  and  to  twitter  too. 

When  at  last  the  robins  did  have  a  song,  it  was  a 
mixture  of  robin  and  mocking-bird  notes.  They  did 
not  speak  pure  robin  all  that  year. 

After  they  were  grown-up  birds,  the  mocker  who  had 
taught  them  music  took  a  great  dislike  to  them.  This 
was  very  strange,  for  he  had  been  so  fond  of  his  little 
pupils,  dropping  berries  down  through  the  cage  wires, 
and  calling  them  all  sorts  of  pet  names  in  his  own  Ian- 


110  OUR  FEATHERED  F1UENDS. 

guage.  Now  he  would  scold  them  and  peck  at  them 
and  scare  them,  until  we  were  obliged  to  cover  a  part 
of  the  cage. 

In  a  year  or  two  the  male  robin  got  out  of  the  cage 
and  flew  away.  We  could  hear  him  far  out  of  sight  in 
the  trees,  but  he  would  not  come  back,  though  we 
called  to  him  in  our  kindest  tones.  He  was  out  all 
night,  and  we  supposed  he  was  dead,  as  he  was  at  the 
mercy  of  the  mocking-birds. 

What  was  our  surprise  early  in  the  morning  to  find 
him  on  the  hitching-post  near  the  house,  with  his  bill 
wide  open,  screaming  for  his  breakfast.  But  he  would 
not  let  us  put  our  hands  on  him. 

Then  we  thought  of  a  plan  to  catch  him,  the  same 
by  which  wild  animals  are  sometimes  caught.  We 
scattered  some  crumbs  from  the  post  where  he  sat  to 
the  door  of  the  cage,  and  Robin  went  to  picking  them 
up,  of  course,  being  very  hungry  and  not  thinking 
about  the  consequences.  He  followed  the  trail  of  the 
crumbs  until,  before  he  knew  it,  he  was  safe  within 
the  cage  and  the  door  was  shut. 

Once  again  he  got  away  from  us,  but  we  knew  he 
would  come  back  at  meal-time,  if  the  shrikes  and  the 
mockers  did  not  find  him.  Birds  which  have  lived  for 
a  while  in  a  cage  seem  to  be  perfectly  helpless  when 
out  at  liberty,  not  knowing  how  to  find  food  for  them- 
selves, and  dying  of  hunger  in  the  midst  of  plenty. 

Sure  enough,  at  supper  time  Robin  came  back,  clam- 
oring for  his  share.  There  was  a  soft,  moist  place  in 


MORE  ABOUT  OUR  ROBIN.  Ill 

the  garden  where  we  were  in  the  habit  of  digging 
worms  for  the  robins  at  night.  We  took  the  cage  and 
set  it  down  by  this  place,  with  the  door  tied  back. 

We  went  to  work  with  the  spade,  pretending  not  to 
notice  the  little  runaway,  who  hopped  close  to  us  and 
screamed  at  his  little  innocent  mate  in  the  cage.  We 
threw  some  worms  in  at  the  open  door  for  the  bird  on 
the  inside,  who  ate  them,  taking  no  notice  of  her  com- 
panion on  the  outside. 

Suddenly  the  outsider  hopped  to  the  hole  where  we 
were  digging  and  tried  to  grab  the  worms  before  we 
had  time  to  pick  them  up.  But  we  cheated  him,  under- 
standing his  little  game,  and  dodged  past  him  with  the 
coveted  worms.  He,  standing  on  tiptoe,  danced  about 
in  the  funniest  fashion,  still  trying  to  snatch  the 
worms.  All  at  once,  taunting  him  with  a  good  long 
worm,  we  threw  it  past  him  into  the  cage.  Away  the 
bird  ran  after  it,  and  the  little  fellow  who  loved  so 
well  to  "play  hookie  "  was  caught  once  more. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

MORE  ABOUT  OUR   ROBIN. 

WHEN  the  robins  were  two  years  old,  we  noticed 
that  they  were  picking  up  straws  from  the  bottom  of 
the  cage,  and  so  we  "took  the  hint."  We  looked  all 
about  to  find  something  that  was  the  shape  of  a  nest. 


112  OUR  FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

We  were  tempted  at  first  to  put  a  little  open-work 
basket  in  the  cage,  but  we  remembered  an  experience 
which  we  had  some  years  before,  and  did  not  use  the 
basket. 

The  experience  was  this.  We  hung  a  tiny  basket 
in  the  canary's  cage,  and  the  birds  made  a  thin  nest  in 
it  and  hatched  their  eggs.  The  male  had  been  very 
active,  helping  his  mate  in  all  the  ways  he  could  think 
of,  and  he  thought  he  would  mend  the  nest  one  day. 
So  he  began  to  peck  at  the  string  through  the  meshes 
of  the  basket,  reaching  u-p  from  the  bottom.  We  did 
not  think  he  was  doing  any  harm,  till  we  noticed  what 
looked  like  a  bird's  foot  hanging  down  through  the 
bottom  of  the  basket.  What  was  our  astonishment  to 
find  that  the  old  bird  had  pulled  off  the  legs  of  the 
young  birds,  stupidly  thinking  that  he  was  tugging  at 
the  twine. 

Of  course  we  did  not  put  a  basket  in  the  robins'  cage, 
but  we  found  a  round  butter  mould,  which  answered 
just  as  well.  The  birds  were  very  much  pleased  with 
the  butter  mould,  and  began  carrying  straw  and  mud 
which  we  gave  to  them,  until  they  had  quite  a  respect- 
able robin's  nest.  We  do  not  know  whether  wild 
robins  would  nest  in  a  butter  mould,  if  we  should 
fasten  it  in  the  crotch  of  an  apple  tree  or  swing  it  from 
the  branches,  but  it  would  be  quite  worth  one's  while 
to  try,  if  one  is  living  where  there  are  wild  robins. 

One  morning  we  found  a  blue  egg  in  the  nest.  The 
birds  were  surprised.  They  hopped  on  the  rim  of  the 


MORE  ABOUT  OUR  ROBIN.  113 

butter  mould  and  looked  at  the  egg  and  chirped  at  it, 
and  then  the  male  bird  hopped  in  and  sat  down  on  it. 
We  clapped  our  hands  and  called  to  the  whole  family 
to  "come  and  see." 

But  what  do  you  think  that  naughty  bird  did?  Just 
as  we  were  all  feeling  sure  of  his  good  sense,  he  jumped 
suddenly  out  of  the  nest  and  then  back  again.  Then 
he  began  to  scratch  with  both  feet  as  fast  as  he  could, 
till  the  egg  went  out  of  the  nest  and  lay  in  fragments 
on  the  bottom  of  the  cage.  We  expected  to  see  his 
mate  resent  it,  but  she  took  no  notice,  going  on  peck- 
ing at  a  peach  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

"It  was  an  accident,"  we  said,  ready  to  excuse  our 
pets.  The  days  went  by,  and  seven  blue  eggs  shared 
the  fate  of  the  first  one.  The  birds  took  turns  at 
scratching  them  out  of  the  nest,  as  if  it  were  great 
fun.  We  felt  badly,  of  course,  and  scolded  them. 
But  they  only  stared  helplessly  at  us,  and  did  not 
explain  the  secret  about  those  eggs. 

When  the  robins  were  three  years  old,  the  male  began 
to  be  sick.  He  had  "fits"  or  spasms  of  some  sort, 
whirling  around  on  the  floor  upon  his  back,  where  he 
would  lie  as  if  dead  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  he  would 
jump  up  and  begin  eating,  as  well  as  ever. 

These  attacks  grew  less  severe,  and  in  a  few  days 
the  bird  got  well.  His  mate  had  taken  excellent  care 
of  him,  begging  him  to  eat  something  right  in  the 
middle  of  his  fit,  and  flying  about  him  just  like  a  ner- 
vous little  woman.  When  she  had  nursed  him  back  to 


114  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

life  and  health,  she  was  taken  with  the  same  disease 
and  died  in  a  short  time.  We  asked  a  doctor  what  he 
thought  it  was,  and  he  said  he  "guessed  it  was  the 
grip." 

The  little  widower  did  not  pine  away  and  die  from 
grief;  he  was  too  sensible  for  that,  and  life  was  very 
pleasant  to  him..  He  took  to  singing  with  all  his 
might  as  he  had  never  sung  before.  For  four  hours  in 
the  early  morning  he  never  rested  his  bulging  little 
red  throat,  not  even  to  eat  his1  breakfast.  The  old- 
fashioned  robin  notes,  which  he  had  made  believe  he 
never  knew  before,  came  bubbling  out  in  a  wild  glee 
that  made  the  neighborhood  ring.  People  inquired  all 
around  to  know  where  that  robin  was. 

He  was  very  fond  of  spiders,  and  when  we  took  the 
broom  in  our  hands  he  watched  us  closely.  The  large 
gray  house  spider  was  his  favorite. 

We  think  a  good  deal  of  these  spiders,  and  were  very 
sorry  to  give  them  to  the  robin,  but  we  were  afraid  he 
would  die  if  he  had  none.  In  whichever  room  we  were 
when  we  found  one  of  these  spiders,  we  had  only  to 
call  out,  "Here's  a  spider,  Robby,"  and  the  bird  would 
chirp  his  answer,  hopping  to  the  corner  of  the  cage 
nearest  the  door.  Here  he  would  wait  for  us  to  give 
him  the  insect.  If  we  found  a  bug  or  a  worm,  we  had 
but  to  call  out,  "Quick,  Robby,"  and  he  would  dart 
nervously  from  side  to  side  of  his  big  cage  in  his  eager- 
ness not  to  keep  us  waiting.  He  would  take  berries 
from  our  mouths,  many  a  time  giving  our  lips  a  tweak 


MORE  ABOUT  OUR   ROBIN.  115 

as  if  he  did  it  on  purpose.  Then  he  would  stare  at  us 
with  his  black  eye  full  of  fun. 

A  Chinaman  with  a  vegetable  cart  came  to  our  house 
three  times  a  week,  and  Robby  grew  to  know  him  and 
his  wagon.  He  knew  the  sound  of  the  wagon  before 
it  was  in  sight.  He  was  always  afraid  of  strangers, 
but  this  Chinaman  he  loved  and  trusted.  He  would  hop 
to  his  cage  door  to  meet  him,  and  open  his  bill  for  the 
strawberry  which  "John  "  never  forgot  in  berry  season. 

He  was  fond  of  meat  of  any  kind,  taking  it  salted 
and  cooked  or  raw.  But  he  would  never  touch  bird 
flesh  of  any  sort,  —  chicken  or  quail  or  turkey, —  though 
we  many  a  time  ran  to  the  cage  calling,  "Quick, 
Robbv, "  just  to  surprise  him.  He  would  look  dis- 
gusted and  turn  his  head  away,  as  if  to  say,  "No, 
thank  you:  I  am  not  a  cannibal."  He  would  not 
taste  of  sugar,  but  was  fond  of  gingerbread  and  cake. 

During  our  long  dry  season  of  many  months,  Robby 
had  a  way  of  his  own  to  keep  cool  and  moist.  His 
bath  was  an  oblong  china  vegetable  dish,  which  held 
water  enough  to  cover  him  at  full  length. 

When  the  days  were  warm  and  dry,  and  Robin  some- 
how missed  the  rain  which  he  had  never  seen  in  summer 
time,  he  would  hop  into  the  bath  and  sit  or  lie  down. 
The  water  covered  him  up  to  his  ears;  and  there  he 
would  sit  for  an  hour  at  a  time,  blinking  and  dozing, 
as  if  he  were  a  real  water  bird.  He  would  take  food 
from  our  hands,  too  lazy  and  contented  to  stir  out  of 
the  water. 


116  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

When  the  tourist  robins  came  in  winter,  we  imag- 
ined our  pet  would  remember  his  mate  and  be  anxious 
to  join  the  birds.  But  he  took  no  notice,  caring  not 
so  much  for  the  robins  as  for  the  brown  towhees  who 
had  always  kept  him  company  at  the  back  door. 

Perhaps  he  thought  his  house  was  small,  and  if  all 
"  his  folk  "  were  intending  to  spend  the  winter  with 
him  he  would  be  crowded  "out  of  house  and  home." 
He  was  not  hospitable  to  them,  nor  had  he  "  rooms  to 
rent.,"  He  not  even  answered  them  when  the  tourists 
chirped  him  a  last  good-bye  and  went  away  in  early 
April,  after  they  had  eaten  up  all  the  pepper  berries. 

Well,  the  longest  story  has  an  end.  When  our  robin 
was  in  his  fifth  year  he  died,  and  we  buried  him  beside 
our  little  humming-bird  under  the  fig  tree.  The  bees 
in  the  orange  blossoms  all  about  him  sang  him  a  dirge, 
and  a  royal  mocking-bird  carolled  away  with  all  his 
might. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

GOING  TO   BED   AND   GETTING   UP. 

As  we  told  you  before,  birds  do  not  live  in  houses  or 
sleep  in  bedrooms  ;  though  in  some  parts  of  the  country 
they  build  their  cradles  in  little  bird-houses  and  boxes 
or  anything  of  the  sort  which  you  will  give  them.  But 
here  we  have  never  succeeded  in  making  any  of  them 
occupy  a  place  which  we  have  prepared  for  them, 


GOING    TO  BED  AND   GETTING    UP. 


117 


though  we  have  made  the  prettiest  little  houses,  and 
nailed  boxes  in  cosey  places.  The  western  race  of  the 
house  wren  nests  with  us;  so  also  does  the  bluebird. 
But  these  birds  have  not  become  civilized  and  prefer  to 
stay  in  the  mountains  and  far-off  places. 


WESTERN  BLUEBIRD. 

Birds  never  call  to  one  another  to  "  Be  sure  to  leave 
the  window  up  for  fresh  air,"  and  they  do  not  try  to 
get  more  than  their  share  of  the  blankets,  as  some 
children  do.  Each  bird  carries  his  bedding  about  on 
his  back,  like  a  tramp,  and  he  takes  the  first  warm, 


118  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

sheltered  nook  he  can  find  for  his  bed.  Some  birds 
appear  to  go  to  the  same  place  to  sleep  every  night. 
We  suppose  they  feel  more  at  home  in  one  spot,  if  they 
have  not  been  molested  there.  When  we  find  a  par- 
ticular spot  where  we  know  the  birds  "are  in  the  habit 
of  sleeping  or  roosting,  we  are  careful  not  to  disturb 
the  bush  or  tree. 

Some  birds  sleep  with  their  heads  all  covered  up 
with  the  bed-clothes,  as  if  they  were  afraid,  like  fool- 
ish children.  Perhaps  they  like  a  warm  night-cap, 
though  we  do  not  see  how  they  need  one  with  such  a 
thick  head  of  hair  as  they  have.  We  call  it  "  tucking 
their  heads  under  their  wings." 

It  is  a  queer  fashion  to  stand  or  squat  on  one  foot 
all  night,  instead  of  lying  down  like  other  people. 
We  suppose  they  use  one  foot  at  a  time,  so  that  the 
other  may  be  rested.  You  have  noticed  that  anybody 
who  must  stand  for  a  long  while  usually  favors  one 
limb  or  foot,  holding  it  up  a  little  at  the  knee  joint, 
and  after  a  time  changing  to  the  other.  Try  it  your- 
self and  see. 

One  very  odd  position  in  which  some  birds  sleep  is 
upright  on  the  bark  of  a  tree  trunk,  clinging  to  the 
wood  with  their  toes,  and  propping  themselves  up  with 
their  strong,  pointed  tail-tips,  as  the  flickers  and  some 
of  their  friends  do. 

Going-to-bed-time  and  getting-up-time  are  happy 
hours  with  the  birds.  About  sundown  you  will  hear 
them  saying,  "Just  one  more  twitter,"  "One  more 


GOING   TO  BED  AND  GETTING    UP.  119 

worm,  if  you  please,"  or,  "One  more  flight  to  the 
highest  tree." 

While  you  are  watching  them  in  the  soft  twilight, 
there  is  a  sudden  hush  and  not  a  bird  is  in  sight.  If 
you  have  not  been  paying  close  attention,  with  your 
eyes  wide  open,  it  will  be  impossible  for  you  to  tell 
what  has  become  of  the  birds,  they  go  to  bed  so  quickly 
and  silently.  Not  a  sound  will  break  the  stillness, 
unless  a  merry  mocking-bird  wakes  you  out  of  your 
sleep. 

These  mocking-birds  sing  to  us  all  night  long  at 
some  parts  of  the  year.  You  know  these  birds  came 
by  their  name  because  they  deserve  it.  They  mock  or 
mimic  every  bird  they  hear,  including  the  hens  and 
turke3's.  We  have  wondered  why  they  do  not  talk  as 
well,  but  we  have  never  known  them  to. 

One  mocker  in  our  yard  gives  us  the  postman's 
whistle  every  afternoon  an  hour  before  it  is  due. 
Strangers  rush  to  their  gates,  thinking  their  mail  has 
come,  while  the 'mocker  laughs  at  them  from  the  tip- 
top branch  of  a  eucalyptus  tree,  seventy  or  eighty  feet 
above  them. 

If  you  have  just  come  to  California,  you  are  likely 
to  be  waked  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  by  the  sound 
of  your  pet  chickens  peeping,  or  the  turkeys  crying  as 
if  in  distress,  and  you  imagine  all  the  fowls  in  the 
coops  are  being  carried  off. 

Perhaps  you  will  snatch  a  broom  or  an  apron  and  run 
out  quickly,  sure  of  finding  the  marauder.  From  the 


120  OUR   FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

top  of  his  tree,  safe  out  of  your  reach,  that  little  rascal 
of  a  mocker  will  "  peep  "  again,  and  then  you  will  under- 
stand that  it  is  only  one  of  his  jokes.  Often  they  sing 
beautiful  songs  by  the  hour,  and  we  lie  awake  to  hear, 
laughing  at  the  racket,  or  Jiolding  our  breath  to  catch 
the  last  note  of  some  wonderful  melody. 

Besides  the  mocking-bird  you  may  hear  the  owl, 
though  you  cannot  be  quite  sure  that  it  is  not  the 
mocker  again.  In  the  dusk,  when  it  is  just  light 
enough  to  see  a  little,  you  may  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
"Poor  Will,"1  darting  about  for  his  supper  among  the 
belated  gnats  and  flies. 

When  this  bird  came  to  California  he  left  off  saying 
"Whip  Poor  Will,"  and  so  has  but  two  notes.  "Poor 
Will "  is  not  whipped  in  this  beautiful  land. 

One  will  have  to  get  up  very  early  to  see  the  fun 
among  the  birds  in  the  morning.  A  chirp  in  the  twi- 
light, the  breakfast  bell  ringing  from  the  throat  of  the 
first  bird  up,  and  then  how  astir  are  the  trees  and  the 
bushes,  and  the  whole  yard  or  field!  It  is  impossible 
for  you  to  tell  where  the  little  songsters  came  from  so 
suddenly,  just  as  it  was  impossible  for  you  to  tell 
where  they  went  to  sleep  the  night  before. 

If  there  is  a  tub  of  water  by  the  pump,  the  rim  of  it 
will  soon  be  covered  by  the  birds;  or,  better  still,  if 
there  is  a  leaky  hydrant,  or  a  spring  in  the  berry  patch, 
or  a  puddle  in  the  orchard,  there  you  will  see  what  is 
sure  to  make  you  laugh. 

1  Phaenoptilus  nuttalli  californicus. 


GOING   TO  BED  AND   GETTING    UP. 


121 


The  swishing  and  the  diving  and  the  twittering  and 
the  dressing  of  the  birds,  and  the  flying  particles  of 
water  like  a  shower  bath,  are  enough  to  make  you  glad 
that  there  are  birds  alive. 


WHIP-POOR  WILL. 

Let  lazy  people  lie  in  bed  on  a  bright  morning. 
They  will  never  know  what  fun  they  miss,  even  though 
they  may  read  about  it.  It  is  better  to  see  a  fine  thing 
for  yourself  than  to  depend  upon  what  other  people 
have  to  say  about  it. 


122  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

By  the  time  ordinary  people  are  up,  the  birds  will 
have  settled  down  to  the  business  of  the  day.  Their 
dresses  and  coats  are  brushed,  and  their  hats  and  bon- 
nets are  on  u straight." 

The  drip,  drip,  of  the  hydrant,  or  the  babble  of  the 
brook  do  not  tell  what  they  saw  an  hour  ago.  The 
old  sun,  looking  down  steadily  in  your  face,  never 
hints  at  sights  that  made  him  smile  so  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  eye  when  he  first  got  up  at  call  of  the 
birds. 

It  is  a  very  odd  thing  that  the  birds  have  to  wake 
the  sun  every  morning  in  California.  Look  about  you 
early  and  see  how  it  is  where  you  live. 

"  Get  up,  old  Sun !  get  up,  old  Sun !  "  they  all  scream 
at  once,  and  they  keep  right  on  making  as  much  noise 
as  they  can,  until  the  lazy  old  fellow  is  fairly  out  of 
bed.  Tell  your  friends,  if  they  do  not  believe  this, 
that  they  and  old  Sol  himself  had  better  take  to  get- 
ting up  earlier  in  the  morning. 

That  is  a  queer  old  proverb,  "Early  birds  get  the 
worms."  You  have  all  heard  it,  and  it  tells  the  truth. 

Did  you  ever  see  the  ground  all  covered  with  tiny 
little  mounds  of  fresh  earth  in  the  morning  when  it  is 
damp?  Angle-worms  do  not  like  the  sunshine;  they 
will  die  if  exposed  to  it.  So  they  come  up  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  ground  in  the  night,  while  we  and  the  sun 
are  asleep,  just  to  get  a  bit  of  fresh  air  and  to  look 
around  the  world.  If  they  do  not  hurry  back  to  their 
home  in  the  ground,  they  will  get  surprised  by  the 


MllS.   TOWHEE  PROPOSES  A  PARTY.    v 

"early  birds,"  who  help  themselves  to  all  the  worms 
they  want. 

That  is  a  good  proverb  for  the  birds  and  the  worms, 
but  it  has  another  meaning  for  us  all.  "  Early  birds 
get  the  worms"  means  "If  you  want  to  see  pretty 
things,  and  hear  fine  music,  and  have  a  good  time,  you 
must  get  up  early  in  the  morning."  So  if  you  would 
see  all  the  bird-fun  in  your  yard,  you  must  be  up  and 
out  as  soon  as  there  is  the  least  bit  of  light,  or  you  will 
be  too  late. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

MRS.    TOWHEE  PROPOSES   A   GARDEN  PARTY. 

"LET'S  give  a  garden  party,"  said  Mrs.  Towhee  to 
Mrs.  Phoebe;  "it  is  lovely  weather,  and  we  haven't 
had  a  garden  party  for  ever  so  long." 

"Good!  let's  do  it,"  answered  Mrs.  Phoebe.  "You 
go  and  give  out  the  invitations,  while  I  get  things 
ready." 

"There  is  a  new  family  up  in  the  eucalyptus  house," 
said  Mrs.  Towhee,  calling  her  friend  back.  "  They  are 
little  mites  of  people,  almost  as  small  as  the  Hummers. 
I  wonder  if  it  would  be  proper  to  invite  them  to  our 
party.  They  are  strangers  here,  and  no  one  I  have 
seen  ever  heard  of  them  before.  You  know  we  ought 
to  be  careful  about  the  new  people  we  meet." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  the  other  said,  smoothing  her 


124 


OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 


slate-colored  breast.     "Ask  Mrs.  Mocker;  she  knows 
everybody." 

So  they  called  to  Mrs.  Mocker.     "  Do  you  know  that 
new  family  up  in  the  great  high  house?     They  must 


PHCEBE. 

be  fine  people  to  move  into  such  a  handsome  place. 
The  Oriole  family  have  rented  that  house  for  years." 

"Oh,  I  know  them,"  Mrs.  Mocker  said;  "they  are 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bush-tit  from  over  in  the  mountains. 
They  never  lived  in  our  city  before.  They  belong  to 
the  great  Tit  family,  and  their  name  means  a  Tit-in-a- 
bush."  Then  Mrs.  Mocker  looked  very  knowing  and 


MRS.    TOWHEE  PROPOSES  A   PARTY.  125 

put  on  airs,  as  she  always  does.  She  knows  that  she 
is  acquainted  with  everybody,  and  she  is  proud  of  it. 

Mrs.  Towhee  and  Mrs.  Phoebe  nudged  each  other. 
Then  they  asked  Mrs.  Mocker  if  she  would  "introduce 
the  new  neighbors  at  the  party." 

Mrs.  Mocker  agreed  to  do  this,  and  then  Mrs.  Towhee 
went  away  to  invite  all  the  people,  and  Mrs.  Phoebe 
got  the  garden  ready.  She  swung  on  all  the  bough- 
swings  she  could  think  of,  to  see  if  they  were  safe; 
and  she  hunted  up  all  the  nice  nooks  and  corners  to 
play  hide-and-seek  in ;  and  she  tested  the  food  which 
was  sent  in  to  see  if  it  was  all  right.  Then  she  went 
upstairs  into  the  top  stories  of  the  tree-houses  and 
waved  her  hand  to  all  her  bird  friends. 

It  was  a  busy  day  among  the  bird  people.  They 
washed  themselves,  and  combed  their  frizzes,  and  cocked 
their  hats,  and  trimmed  their  bonnets,  and  flirted  their 
coat-tails,  and  fixed  their  best  trails,  and  took  espe- 
cial pains  to  have  their  feet  clean.  They  made  their 
nails  look  neat,  too ;  strange  a  bird  should  think 
of  that.  But  birds  are  ladies  and  gentlemen,  you 
know. 

"  Is  my  gorget  all  right  ? "  asked  Mr.  Hummer  of 
Mr.  Sparrow. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  your  gorget,"  said 
Mr.  Sparrow. 

"  Why,  it's  this  shining  patch  I  always  wear  under 
my  throat.  Really  it  is  a  diamond  scarf-pin  which  has 
always  been  in  our  family.  It  is  an  heirloom.  Rather 


126  OUR   FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

large,  isn't  it?  but  all  the  gentlemen  in  our  family 
wear  them,  and  that  is  what  makes  the  fashion,  you 
know."  Then  the  vain  young  hummer  turned  his  head 
all  about  in  the  sunshine  to  make  his  gorget  shimmer. 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Sparrow.  "How  do  you  like 
my  new  garden  hat?  You  see  it  is  striped, —  two  black 
stripes  and  three  white  stripes.  It  is  very  costly,  and 
I  hope  it  will  wear  a  whole  year." 

"Why,  that  is  a  beautiful  hat,"  answered  Mr.  Hum- 
mer. "Do  you  suppose  those  new  people  up  in  the 
big  house  will  come  to  our  garden  party?" 

"Oh,  I  hope  so,"  said  Mr.  Sparrow.  "And  there 
are  some  more  new  people  here,  tourists,  just  passing 
over  the  Southern-Pacific-free-to-all  bird  route.  They 
have  stop-over  tickets,  I  understand,  and  I  mean  to 
ask  Mrs.  Mocker  to  invite  them  all.  She  likes  to  get 
acquainted  with  strangers  for  the  chance  of  mocking 
them  behind  their  backs.  I  can't  help  liking  her, 
though." 

"Tut,  tut,"  said  Mr.  Sparrow,  "it  isn't  right  to 
gossip  about  one's  neighbors."  Then  in  a  low  tone 
he  added,  "If  you  don't  know  anything  good  to  say 
about  a  person  like  Mrs.  Mocker,  it  shows  you  do  not 
know  her  very  well." 

Mr.  Mocker  heard  what  they  were  saying  about  his 
wife,  and  he  fell  to  mimicking  them  in  a  low  key  till 
the  gossipers  all  flew  off. 

Just  then  a  red-shafted  flicker  called  to  his  next 
neighbor,  the  humming-bird,  with  a  loud,  harsh  cry, 


MRS.    TOWIIEE  PROPOSES  A   PARTY. 


127 


which  so  frightened  the  little  hummer  that  he  dropped 
straight  down  from  the  bough  he  was  sitting  on,  right 
into  the  lap  of  a  rose  that  happened  to  be  spreading 
her  skirts  below. 

"You   needn't   be   afraid   of   me,"  said  the  flicker, 
"  that  is  my  natural  voice.     I  was  going  to  tell  you  how 


FLICKER. 

I  scared  an  old  lady  in  the  white  house  yonder.  I 
flew  up  to  the  gable  under  the  eaves  and  began  ham- 
mering away  with  all  my  might  on  the  house-side.  You 
know  nry  hard,  stout  bill  is  my  hammer.  It  went  'rap, 
rap,'  just  like  a  man  with  a  hatchet. 

"  Out  came  the  old  lady,  and  she  looked  all  around 
the  house,  thinking  to  see  a  burglar,   I  suppose,  and 


128  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

then  she  went  back  and  locked  the  door.  Soon  I  began 
to  hammer  again.  She  came  out,  and  this  time  she 
looked  straight  at  me  and  said,  'Shoo,  you  old  bird! ' 
Of  course  I  flew  away.  All  I  wanted  was  to  make  a 
hole  in  the  roof  over  the  attic,  so  I  could  have  a  warm 
place  to  sleep  in  this  winter." 

"I  don't  think  it  was  kind  of  you  to  scare  an  old 
lady,"  said  the  hummer,  sitting  still  in  the  lap  of  the 
pink  rose.  "That  is  the  same  lady  who  left  her 
pampas  plumes  standing  in  the  yard  when  other  people 
had  cut  theirs  down,  on  purpose  that  my  wife  might 
have  the  feathers  and  tufts  to  line  her  nest  with. 
They  are  splendid  to  make  a  cradle  of,  they  and  the 
spider's  web.  It  was  that  same  old  lady's  daughter 
who  put  the  umbrella  over  our  nest  in  the  rain  storm. 

"That  young  lady  thinks  she  can  catch  me.  I  go 
and  sit  on  a  low  bush  and  doze  in  the  sunshine,  show- 
ing off  my  gorget  as  well  as  I  can,  when  along  comes 
the  young  lady.  I  blink  away,  and  she  thinks  I  am 
fast  asleep.  As  long  as  her  hands  are  behind  her  I 
know  I  am  safe,  and  I  let  her  get  close  to  me.  But 
the  minute  she  puts  out  her  hand  to  catch  me,  I  am 
off,  and  you  ought  to  see  how  disappointed  she  looks. " 

"  That  is  a  very  long  story  for  such  a  small  bird  as 
you  are,"  said  Mr.  Flicker  to  the  hummer.  "I  could 
tell  one  twice  as  long." 

Mr.  Flicker  was  beginning  his  yarn  all  about  how 
he  scared  some  small  boys  just  at  sundown  in  a  grove. 
He  said  he -flew  up  quickly,  and  his  flame-colored  wing 


AT  THE  GARDEN  PARTY.  129 

linings  looked  so  much   like  fire  that   the   boys  ran 
away. 

Just  then  Mr.  Mocker  set  up  such  a  noise,  squalling 
like  a  chicken  when  it  is  caught,  that  the  birds  all  flew 
away  to  their  houses,  all  but  the  hummer.  He  wasn't 
afraid  of  a  chicken,  and  he  sat  still  in  the  lap  of  the 
sweet  rose. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

AT   THE   GARDEN   PARTY. 

THE  morning  dew  was  not  off  from  the  lilacs  and 
the  sweet  calamus  in  the  garden  when  the  birds  began 
to  come  to  the  party. 

They  came  in  pairs,  and  in  groups,  and  in  whole 
families.  They  were  turning  their  heads  this  way  and 
that,  whispering  and  chatting  and  showing  off  their 
new  spring  suits,  and  looking  shyly  at  the  different 
kinds  of  food,  like  people  at  a  picnic. 

"Good  morning,"  said  old  Mrs.  Goldfinch  to  Mrs. 
Hummer.  ,  "  I  see  you  have  a  son  almost  as  large  as 
yourself.  I  do  not  understand  how  that  can  be  so  early 
in  the  season." 

"Oh,  I  am  very  proud  of  my  son,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Hummer.  "  I  have  a  daughter  almost  as  large  as  my 
son.  They  are  both  very  much  like  their  father.  I 
had  good  luck  in  raising  them.  It  stormed  once  right 
into  the  nest,  when  they  were  very  small  and  weak, 


130  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

but  I  kept  mending  the  cradle  as  well  as  I  could  with 
thread  which  I  bought  of  Mrs.  Spider.  I  brought  both 
of  my  children  to  the  party  with  me." 

"  Oh,  I  never  take  my  children  to  a  party, "said  Mrs. 
Goldfinch.  "I  leave  them  with  their  nurse." 

Mrs.  Goldfinch  said  this  with  a  haughty  air,  which 
quite  amused  Mrs.  Hummer.  She  knew  very  well  that 
Mrs.  Goldfinch  kept  no  nurse,  but  took  care  of  her 
children  herself  night  and  day.  "  Very  likely  the  cats 
will  get  them  to-day,"  Mrs.  Hummer  was  thinking. 

"Good  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Warbler  to  Mrs.  Cliff 
Swallow.  "I  did  not  know  you  had  returned.  Have 
you  come  to  stay  with  us  now?" 

"Oh,  yes;  I  have  come  to  stay, "answered  Mrs.  Cliff 
Swallow.  "We  have  taken  rooms  under  the  barn 
eaves.  We  are  just  making  a  cradle  for  the  young 
ones  we  hope  to  have  by  and  by.  We  have  had  a 
hard  time  to  get  all  the  mud  we  wanted,  and  thought 
we  should  be  obliged  to  give  up  nest-making  for  this 
year.  There  was  a  nice  puddle  in  the  road  where  we 
were  at  work ;  you  know  we  like  road  mud  best,  because 
it  is  so  fine  and  sticky.  When  school  let  out,  the  small 
boys  threw  stones  at  us,  hoping  to  hit  some  of  us,  I  sup- 
pose, and  so  we  had  to  go  down  to  the  river  to  get  our 
mud,  and  that  wasn't  half  so  good  as  the  road  mud." 

"That  is  too  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Warbler. 

Mrs.  Cliff  Swallow  went  on  to  say,  "We  have  just 
heard  such  a  slander  about  our  family.  Mrs.  Owl  told 
us.  She  overheard  it  outside  of  a  window  in  the  even- 


AT  THE  GARDEN  PARTY.          131 

ing.  Somebody  has  started  the  story  that  we  swal- 
lows have  fleas  and  other  vermin  in  our  nests,  and  on 
that  account  we  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  build  around 
houses  and  barns.  It  is  a  dreadful  story,  and  so  false. 
I  wonder  how  it  started.  I  felt  almost  too  ashamed  to 
corne  to  the  party." 

"Too  bad;  too  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Warbler  again.  "I 
would  not  pay  any  attention  to  it.  Folks  will  say 
unkind  tilings  about  us  all,  if  they  happen  to  find  just 
one  of  us  in  mischief.  Of  course  all  birds  do  have  a 
few  little  mites  or  fleas  in  their  houses,  and  they  can't 
help  that,  any  more  than  those  great  human  people  can 
help  having  house-flies  and  mosquitoes  about  them 
where  they  live. 

"Now  some  folks  think  I  pick  holes  in  the  window 
screens,  just  because  I  love  to  run  over  them,  up  and 
down  and  all  around,  after  the  flies.  To  be  sure,  I  do 
stick  my  toes  through  the  meshes  to  hold  myself  on, 
but  what  of  that  ?  I  love  to  peep  through  the  window 
at  people  eating  breakfast  in  the  morning  when  the 
flies  are  stiff  with  cold  on  the  outside.  I  can  catch  my 
game  easily  then." 

Just  then  the  new  birds  came  along,  and  all  the  rest 
stood  in  a  row  to  be  introduced  by  Mrs.  Mocker. 
"Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bush-tit,"  she  said,  "let  me  present 
you  to  all  of  your  neighbors." 

The  strangers  shook  hands  all  around,  and  then  the 
birds  fell  to  asking  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bush-tit  questions 
in  true  Yankee  style. 


132 


OUR  FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 


CALIFORNIA  HI-SH-TIT  AND  N«HT. 


"Yes,"  they  answered,  "we  are  going  to  stay  all  this 
season.  We  are  making  a  cradle  in  the  eucalyptus 
house,  which  we  have  rented." 

"Oh,  I  saw  your  cradle,"  said  Mrs.  Towhee;  "it  is 


AT  THE  GARDEN  PARTY.          133 

such  a  queer  one.  It  looks  just  like  a  bag  with  a  little 
round  hole  in  one  side  no  bigger  than  a  good-sized 
blackberry.  What  makes  you  build  such  a  queer  cradle 
as  that?" 

"  That  is  the  kind  of  a  cradle  all  our  family  make. 
The  little  ones  have  to  stay  in  until  we  boost  them  out, 
or  until  they  are  strong  enough  to  climb  out.  It  is 
very  safe  and  warm.  It  is  strong,  too.  We  would 
not  think  of  making  such  a  cradle  as  you  do,  Mrs. 
Towhee.  We  felt  very  sorry  one  day  when  we  found 
one  of  your  babies  dead  on  the  ground,  where  it  had 
fallen  out  of  the  nest  when  it  was  too  weak  to  fly." 

"Well,  we  are  glad  to  see  you,  anyway,"  said  Mrs. 
Towhee,  wiping  the  tears  out  of  her  eyes.  "  Now  make 
yourselves  at  home,  and  let  your  little  Tits  come  over 
and  play  with  our  little  Towhees." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bush-tit  bowed  politely,  and  then 
along  came  Mr.  Bluebird.  "Why,  how  do  you  do?" 
-he  said.  "What  brought  you  here?  I  thought  you 
lived  up  in  the  mountain  with  the  other  Bush-tits." 

"  What  brought  you  here  ?  "  they  answered,  laughing 
in  the  sweetest  way.  And  then  they  agreed  that  our 
yard  is  a  very  nice  place,  and  they  thought  they  would 
"bring  their  friends  "  often  and  picnic. 

"We  never  have  rented  a  house  in  this  street,"  said 
Mr.  Bluebird,  "but  we  may  do  so  some  day.  Do  you 
think  it  would  be  safe  to  try  to  raise  a  family  so  near 
those  great  people  ?  " 

"We  think  so,"  said  Mrs.  Bush-tit,  "but  you  ought 


134  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

to  see  them  stand  and  stare  at  us.  A  big,  kind-faced 
boy  comes  every  day  and  writes  in  a  note-book,  looking 
straight  into  our  house.  Once  he  climbed  up  on  a 
ladder  and  examined  it.  We  were  very  much  afraid, 
but  he  did  us  no  harm.  His  eye  was  so  blue  and  clear 
we  could  see  ourselves  in  it.  It  looked  just  as  if  it 
couldn't  hurt  a  bird. 

"  Then  one  day  a  lady  came  with  the  boy,  and  they 
both  watched  us  and  tried  to  make  pictures  of  us,  but 
we  wouldn't  keep  still  long  enough.  The  lady  is  that 
boy's  mother,  and  we  heard  her  say,  'We'll  tame  these 
bush-tits  some  day,  Jo,  just  as  we  did  the  humming- 
birds, and  then  we  will  write  all  about  them  for 
children  to  read." 

Then  Mr.  Bluebird  said,  "Isn't  it  strange  what  queer 
things  people  do  write  about  us  ?  Sometimes  they  are 
right,  and  sometimes  they  are  wrong.  I  wish  some 
bird  author  would  write  a  book  about  men  and  women 
and  their  queer  ways.  Wouldn't  it  be  interesting?" 

Then  Madam  Bush-tit  laughed  a  merry  little  giggle 
that  made  Mr.  Mocker  look  up  in  surprise,  and  he  ran 
it  over  in  an  undertone  before  he  should  forget  it. 

Just  then  a  yellow-breasted  meadow  lark  carolled 
his  sweet  ditty  on  the  tip-top  of  a  pine  tree.  All  the 
birds  flew  to  welcome  him  to  the  garden  party,  coaxing 
him  to  stay  and  offering  him  lemonade  from  the  cup  of 
an  orange  blossom.  They  all  loved  Mr.  Meadow  Lark. 

"No,  thank  you,"  he  said;  "I  must  be  off.  I  love 
the  fields  better  than  the  door-yards,  and  the  violets 


AT  THE  GARDEN  PARTY. 


135 

I  just  came 


and  the  cream-cups  look  out  for  my  drink, 
a  minute  to  say  good  morning." 

A  whole  flock  of  wax-wings  took  possession  of  a 
pepper  tree  and  began  to  throw  the  seeds  down  on  the 
heads  of  the  birds  beneath.  "Oh,  excuse  us,"  they 


MEADOW  LARK. 

said,  "  we  are  tourists,  and  this  yard  looked  so  inviting 
we  stopped  for  a  few  moments.  How  much  do  you  ask 
a  dozen  for  these  pepper  berries  ?  We  do  not  have  any 
in  our  country.  They  are  good  eating,  we  find,  when 
one  has  learned  how  to  manage  them.  You  ought  not 
to  charge  us  a  great  price,  for  they  are  almost  all  seed. 
How  much  do  you  ask?" 


136  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

All  the  birds  laughed,  and  then  Mr.  Mocker  imitated 
the  wax-wings,  calling  out  in  a  saucy  tone,  "How 
much  do  you  ask?  How  much  do  you  ask?"  The 
wax-wings  were  offended  and  flew  away,  the  bit  of  red 
wax  on  the  tip  of  their  wing  feathers  showing  very 
plainly  in  the  sunshine. 

"As  if  we  ever  charge  anybod}?-  anything  for  what 
they  eat,"  said  Mr.  Warbler.  "I'm  hungry  myself." 
Then  Mrs.  Towhee,  who  had  really  gotten  up  the 
garden  party,  called  them  to  dinner. 

All  the  birds  helped  themselves.  The  hummers 
dipped  away  down  into  the  honey-pot  of  a  morning- 
glory,  and  the  towhees  and  mockers  ate  worms  and 
crickets  in  the  damp  grass ;  the  warblers  snatched  gnats 
on  the  wing,  and  the  bush-tits  ran  up  and  down  on  the 
tree  boughs,  in  search  of  bugs  so  small  nobody  else 
could  see  them.  Each  bird  took  the  sort  of  food  it 
liked  best,  drinking  at  the  hydrant  and  breaking  the 
bottles  of  the  raspberry  vines. 

Suddenly  along  came  Mr.  Butcher-bird.  "  Go  away, 
go  away,"  all  the  birds  cried.  "Nobody  invited  you 
to  our  garden  party." 

"But  I  am  here,"  said  Mr.  Butcher,  in  an  impudent 
manner.  "I  should  like  to  have  a  taste  of  that  fat 
young  hummer." 

Mrs.  Hummer  screamed,  and  down  swooped  the 
butcher.  Everybody  thought  he  was  going  to  make  a 
meal  of  the  baby,  when  he  surprised  them  by  grabbing 
up  a  great  Jerusalem  cricket  and  darting  off  with  it. 


OITU  BIRD  HOSPITAL.  187 

Mr.  Butcher-bird  thought  it  was  a  good  joke,  and  he 
laughed  loudly  from  the  peach  tree.  But  the  birds 
were  so  scared  that  they  all  flew  away,  and  so  the 
garden  party  broke  up. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

OUR   BIRD   HOSPITAL. 

CITIES  have  their  hospitals  for  the  sick  and  wounded. 
When  an  accident  happens  to  a  person  in  the  street,  or 
a  man  falls  from  a  building,  or  is  burned,  or  is  hurt  in 
any  way,  he  is  taken  to  the  hospital,  where  the  surgeon 
does  what  he  can  for  him.  Sometimes  his  life  is  saved 
by  the  surgeon's  care  and  the  kindness  of  trained 
nurses.  * 

If  a  stranger  in  any  city  is  taken  sick,  and  has  no 
friends  to  care  for  him,  he  is  carried  to  the  hospital, 
where  he  is  nursed  back  to  strength.  If  he  has  no 
money,  he  is  quite  welcome  to  all  this. 

A  long  while  ago,  when  we  first  began  to  be  inter- 
ested in  birds  and  to  think  of  them  as  "people,"  like 
ourselves,  we  found  it  necessary  to  have  a  bird  hos- 
pital. 

Our  native  birds  seldom  meet  with  accidents  unless 
they  are  killed  outright;  but  the  tourist  birds  are  often 
found  injured  in  some  mysterious  way,  so  that  they 
cannot  fly.  We  feel  sorry  for  these  strangers  so  far 


138  OUR  FEATHERED   FRIENDS. 

from  home,  and  so  we  pick  them  up  and  carry  them  to 
our  hospital. 

We  have  several  empty  cages  about,  one  being  the  big 
cage  whicli  used  to  be  "  Hobby's  "  house.  When  Robin 
died,  we  thought  it  was  a  pity  to  give  his  cage  away 
or  to  have  it  doing  no  good  to  anybody. 

So  we  called  it  our  hospital.  This  hospital  is  "In 
memory  of  Robin,"  as  hospitals  are  sometimes  built  in 
"memory"  of  great  men,  or  with  money  which  rich 
men  have  left  for  that  purpose. 

We  do  not  remember  how  many  birds  have  been 
taken  to  our  hospital,  but  there  have  been  a  great 
many.  We  use  the  "smaller  wards"  -the  little 
cages,  you  know  —  for  little  solitary  birds. 

The  last  patients  which  we  had  in  the  large  hospital 
were  two  wax- wings  which  we  found  maimed  in  some 
way  so  that  they  could  not  fly.  They  could  get  along 
pretty  well  low  on  the. ground,  but  we  were  afraid  the 
cats  would  steal  them,  and  so  our  hospital  nurse  took 
charge  of  them. 

At  first  they  were  very  wild  and  would  scream  when 
we  touched  them.  But  they  tamed  readily,  and  in  a 
day  or  two  would  sit  on  our  fingers  and  eat  from  our 
hands.  We  knew  they  were  berry  and  insect  eaters ; 
but,  as  it  was  winter,  and  the  insects  scarce,  we  could 
think  of  nothing  they  would  like  but  the  pepper  ber- 
ries. They  lived  on  these  for  a  few  days,  but  evidently 
wanted  other  food. 

We  tried  angle-worms,  but  these  did  not  suit.     One 


OUR   BIRD  HOSPITAL. 


139 


morning  at  breakfast  little  Sister,  the  hospital  nurse, 
was  holding  one  of  the  wax -wings  on  her  finger,  when 
it  began  to  snatch  at  the  bread  crumbs.  It  was  as  if 


WAX-WHIG. 

the  little  bird  had  been  used  to  home-made  bread  all 
its  life. 

We  kept  these  two  beautiful  patients  in  our  hospital 
until  they  were  quite  strong,  and  just  before  the  last 
of  the  tourists  went  away  they  joined  their  friends  and 


140  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

flew  off  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  We  thought  we 
saw  them  in  the  trees  once  again,  but  were  not  certain, 
all  wax-wings  look  so  very  much  alike. 

At  first,  when  we  let  them  out  of  the  cage,  they 
would  run  back  and  go  in  at  the  open  door;  but  soon 
they  heard  their  mates  calling  and  joined  them.  We 
had  their  photographs  taken  just  before  they  went 
away,  as  people  have  the  pictures  of  their  friends  to 
"remember  them  by." 

The  birds  who  are  at  liberty  are  very  attentive  to 
the  birds  in  the  hospitals,  and  hop  close  to  them,  as  if 
they  were  inquiring  all  about  their  troubles. 

Besides  these  sick  birds  in  the  hospital,  we  have  the 
"out  patients,"  young  birds  which  we  feed  and  look 
after  when  they  happen  to  fall  out  of  the  nests.  They 
cry  all  about  at  nesting  time,  so  that  it  is  as  much  as 
one  person  can  do  to  keep  the  cats  away  and  see  that 
nothing  happens  to  them. 

Boys  in  our  neighborhood  know  how  we  love  the 
birds,  and  often  bring  them  to  us  if  they  are  hurt,  so 
that  they  may  have  the  benefit  of  our  hospital.  This 
is  better  than  to  leave  them  where  they  happen  to  fall, 
for  the  cats  and  dogs  to  worry.  There  are  many  ways 
in  which  we  can  show  our  affection  for  these  little 
people. 


A  SPLENDID  COLLECTION.  141 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 

A    SPLENDID   COLLECTION. 

WE  could  never  finish  a  book  if  we  told  all  there  is 
to  know  about  birds.  So  we  shall  have  to  close  our 
story  about  these  people,  hoping  that  children  who  read 
it  will  love  the  birds  better  than  they  ever  did  before. 

The  bkds  will  stay  with  you  wherever  you  live,  even 
if  it  is  on  a  lonely  island  or  a  western  prairie.  There 
will  be  garden  parties,  and  morning  concerts,  and  even- 
ing serenades,  and  visiting  birds  will  drop  into  your 
yards  and  stop  awhile.  Birds  are  just  like  other 
people ;  they  like  to  take  a  meal  with  a  neighbor  now 
and  then.  It  makes  good  feeling  on  both  sides. 

Any  one  can  have  a  fine  collection  of  beautiful  birds 
without  going  to  the  museums.  Not  dead,  stuffed, 
songless  creatures,  who  cannot  say  "  Thank  you  "  for  a 
crumb,  or  warble  you  a  melody  in  return  for  a  home  in 
your  yard.  You  can  have  this  splendid  collection  fly- 
ing from  tree  to  tree,  and  making  cradles  among  the 
flowers,  and  giving  a  garden  party  every  day  in  the 
year,  even  though  the  snow  lies  on  the  ground. 

There  are  wise  people  who  study  birds  all  their  lives, 
never  killing  the  little  things  to  put  away  in  a  drawer 
with  camphor  balls.  Such  people  come  to  love  the 
birds  very  much,  and  to  know  their  sweet,  wise  doings 
in  a  way  that  a  person  with  a  gun  can  never  know 


142  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

them.  Sick  people  can  sit  in  the  sunshine  or  in  the 
shade  and  study  the  birds,  and  grow  stronger  as  well 
as  wiser. 

There  are  some  strange  collections  of  birds  to  be 
found  in  milliners'  shops.  The  milliners  are  not  to 
blame  for  these,  for  if  good  and  kind  people  did  not 
want  any  out  of  their  collection,  they  would  not  keep 
so  many. 

Sometime  on  your  way  home  from  school,  if  your 
mother  is  not  wanting  to  see  you  early,  look  in  at  these 
show  windows  and  see  the  collections  we  are  speaking 
of.  These  birds  are  sold  to  foolish  women  and  girls, 
and  worn  to  church  and  everywhere  else  on  hats  and 
bonnets. 

See  how  distressed  the  poor  dead  creatures  seem  to 
be,  —  how  they  are  twisted  all  out  of  shape.  They  are 
made  to  squat  or  perch  in  positions  that  make  them 
look  as  if  they  were  in  agony.  Not  one  of  them  all 
has  a  natural,  happy  look,  because  the  people  who  put 
them  up  to  sell  have  never  loved  the  birds  nor  studied 
their  ways.  All  they  care  about  is  the  money  they  can 
get  for  them. 

You  will  notice  that  some  of  the  birds  in  ladies'  bon- 
nets have  been  cut  in  two.  Sometimes  just  the  head 
and  wings  are  to  be  seen.  If  these  ladies  stopped  to 
see  what  they  were  doing,  and  to  think  of  how  ridicu- 
lous they  look,  they  would  never  wear  these  ornaments, 
just  like  savages. 

Many  of  the  birds  that  are  very  rare  and  beautiful 


A   SPLENDID   COLLECTION. 


143 


SNOWY  HERON. 


144  OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS. 

have  been  nearly  or  quite  all  killed  for  this  fashion. 
Some  of  the  most  delicate  plumes  you  see  have  been 
taken  from  the  egret,1  or  white  heron,  at  nesting  time. 
The  mothers  are  shot  or  stoned  to  death  very  easity, 
because  they  will  not  leave  their  young.  It  is  said 
that  many  are  left  wounded  and  yet  alive  after  the 
plumes  have  been  stripped  off.  There  is  no  one  to 
care  for  the  young  which  are  left  in  their  nests,  and 
so  they  die  of  cold  and  hunger.  All  this  suffering 
is  just  to  satisfy  the  cruel  pride  of  women  and  girls 
who  must  wear  birds  in  their  bonnets. 

If  boys  would  resolve  never  to  kill  a  bird,  even 
though  they  could  get  money  by  doing  it ;  and  if  girls 
would  resolve  never  to  wear  a  bird  or  a  bird's  wing  on 
their  hats,  our  country  would  be  more  beautiful  with 
song  and  color  than  it  has  ever  been. 

We  sat  in  church  the  other  day,  and  in  front  of  us 
was  a  lady  with  nine  bird's  wings  on  her  bonnet.  She 
was  a  tender-hearted  lady,  and  probably  would  not  hurt 
a  fly  herself.  Yet  her  pride  had  really  caused  the  death 
and  suffering  of  five  birds,  and  possibly  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  birdlings.  She  did  not  stop  to  think.  Will 
you,  kind  reader,  stop  to  think? 

1  An  "  aigrette  "  is  never  an  artificial  ornament  as  some  think,  but 
the  breeding  plumes  of  a  bird,  that  must  be  killed  to  obtain  them. 


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White's  Senior  Arithmetic,     inpress. 

For  advanced  work  see  our  list  of  books  in  Mathematics. 


D.   C.   HEATH    &    CO.,  PUBLISHERS, 

BOSTON.        NEW  YORK.        CHICAGO. 


ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


Hyde'8  Lessons  in  English,  Book  I.  For  the  lower  grade*.  Contains  exercise, 
for  reproduction,  picture  lessons,  letter  writing,  tutt  of  parts  of  speech,  etc.  40  cts. 

Hyde's  Lessons  in  English,  Book  II.  For  Grammar  schools.  Has  enough  tech- 
nical grammar  for  correct  use  of  language.  60  cts. 

Hyde's  Lessons  in  English,  Book  II  with  Supplement.     Has,  in  addition 

to  the  above,  1 18  pages  of  technical  grammar.    70  cts. 
Supplement  bound  alone,  35  cts. 

Hyde's  Practical  English  Grammar.  For  advanced  classes  in  grammar  schools 
and  for  high  schools.  60  cts. 

Hyde's  Lessons  in  English,   Book  II  with  Practical  Grammar.     The 

Practical  Grammar  and  Book  1 1  bound  together.    80  cts. 

Hyde's  Derivation  of  Words,     is  cts. 

Penniman's  Common  Words  Difficult  to  Spell.    Graded  lists  of  common  words 

often  misspelled.     Boards.    »$  cts. 

Penniman'8  Prose  Dictation  Exercises.  Short  extracts  from  the  best  authors. 
Boards.  30  cts. 

Spalding's  Problem  of  Elementary  Composition.    Suggestions  for  its  solution. 

Cloth.    45  cts. 

Mathews's  Outline  of  English  Grammar,  with  Selection*  for  Practice. 

The  application  of  principles  is  made  through  composition  of  original  sentences.    80  cts. 
Buckbee's  Primary  Word  BOOk.      Embraces  thorough  drills  in  articulation  and  in 
the  primary  difficulties  of  spelling  and  sound.    30  cts. 

Sever'ft  Progressive  Speller.  For  use  in  advanced  primary,  intermediate,  and  gram- 
mar  grades.  Gives  spelling,  pronunciation,  definition,  and  use  of  words.  30  cts. 

Badlam's  Suggestive  Lessons  in  Language.    Being  Part  I  and  Appendix  oi 

Suggestive  Lessons  in  Language  and  Reading.     50  cts. 

Smith's  Studies  in  Nature,  and  Language  Lessons.    A  combination  of  object 

lessons  with  language  work.     50  cts.     Part  I  bound  separately,  25  cts. 

HeiklejOhn'8  English  Language.  Treats  salient  features  with  a  master's  skill  and 
with  the  utmost  clearness  and  simplicity.  £1.30. 

HeiklejOhn'S  English  Grammar.  Also  composition,  versification,  paraphrasing,  etc 
For  high  schools  and  colleges.  90  cts. 

Meiklsjohn's  History  of  the  English  Language.    7»p«8««-  Partin  of  Enr 

hsh  Language  above,  35  cts. 

Williams' s  Composition  and  Rhetoric  by  Practice.  For  high  school  and  col- 
lege. Combines  the  smallest  amount  of  theory  with  an  abundance  of  practice.  Revised 
edition,  fti.oo. 

Strang'8  Exercises   in  English.      Examples  in   Syntax,   Accidence,   and  Style    fat 

criticism  and  correction.     50  cts. 
HufiC'ltt'S    English    in    the    Preparatory   SchOOl.      Presents  advanced  methods 

of  teaching  Knglish  grammar  and  composaon  in  the  secondary  schools.     23  cts. 
WOOdward'S   Study  Of  English.      From  primary  school  to  college.     25  cts. 
Genung'S   Study  Of  Rhetoric.      Shows  the  most  practical  discipline,     as  cts. 
See  also  our  list  o/  books  for  the  study  of  English  Literature. 


D.    C.    HEATH    &    CO.,    PUBLISHERS, 
BOSTON.      NRW  YORK.      CHICAGO. 


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